Dan Granger
by old-crow
Summary: Things didn't entirely get swept aside after the conclusion of the TWT. Dumbledore doesn't get his way. Riddle or Fudge won't either. Some OCs have large roles.
1. Leave or Bleed

.

Dan Granger

Old-Crow, scribe

Summary

Things didn't entirely get swept aside after the conclusion of the TWT. Dumbledore doesn't get his way. Riddle or Fudge don't either.

Ships – Not a significant aspect of this tale. This is a story about the adult characters. The teens only have minor roles.

Book compliancy – The story begins during July of 1995, the summer between 4th and 5th year. Except for the last chapter or two, almost everything in books one through four can be assumed, except for Harry's living arrangements. In this story he had been adopted by the Grangers after second year. My Susan Bones is an orphan, taken in at a young age by Amelia Bones. Almost everything after grabbing the cup can be tossed out the window. This story is not a sequel to any of my other stories.

Please note – No Weasley students were knowingly killed or damaged in this story. Actually, Igenerally prefer to ignore them. There's a nice blend of humor, action, titillation, death and situational ethics. One of the characters mentions that something bad happened several years in the past. This story is intended for adult readers who understand that bad things can happen to good people.

Disclaimer - JKR's sandbox, not mine. I'm having a blast pushing some of the piles around a bit and rearranging them. I'm beyond grateful that anyone would spend their time reading my twisted thoughts.

Wizarding etiquette – This and most fanfiction stories are written strictly on a hobby basis. Two fantastic guys agreed to look at it, but there may have been beer involved. I make no claim that it is error free. If you enjoy my little stories and are willing to accept the quality level, please read on and leave a review every few chapters. If you don't care for the content or style, just walk away. I don't want to hear that you don't like the way that I write my stories.

Please note: There are a handful of O-Cs in my story. I would prefer to have heard from you before I find them in your stories. I made use of a non-canon spell, _Percutio. _I believe that Mike first detailed it in his epic tale.

Finally, I'd point out that this story is here because of my friend and fellow scribe, Robst. After finishing his fantastic tale, Harry Crow, I promised myself that if he started posting another story, I would too.

Enjoy.

**Part one – It Started with a Shove**

**Chapter**** One – Leave or Bleed**

Saturday 3 July, 1995

The thirty-eight year old dentist could hardly believe his ears. As his nearly fifteen year old adopted son, Harry and his daughter Hermione relayed the events following the final task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament to his increasing disbelief, the bile that was building in his stomach was offset by an ever-increasing dose of righteous anger. With a glance to Emma, his wife of seventeen years, he confirmed, "Do you mean to say that the Minister for Magic completely blew off your report as some sort of delusional story? Didn't they at least go check the scene? There must have been _loads_ of physical evidence."

Harry recalled the giant cauldron and shattered headstones before replying, "er…"

Reminding himself to focus on his driving, Dan asked, "Harry, what the hell happened?"

"Professor Dumbledore and Minister Fudge asked me a question or two when Cedric and I, I mean Cedric's body and I got back. Then they went to talk with Mr. Diggory and the fake Moody took me up to the castle and tried to kill me. Professor Dumbledore stopped him, then he turned into a different guy; Barty Crouch Junior. Dumbledore asked him a few questions, but then Fudge and Mr. Malfoy came in together with a dementor that sucked Crouch's soul out. I don't understand; I'd seen him at the graveyard just minutes before. That albino turd tried to kill me."

"_What?_ The Minister of Magic is mates with…?"

Hermione piped up, "They were sitting together, until you and Cedric were portkeyed away. Then I saw him talking with Minister Fudge for a few minutes while Professor Dumbledore was talking with Mr. Diggory."

"Em, get the notepad out of the glove box. Harry, think carefully; _exactly_ what did you see in that graveyard?"

The confused teen briefly explained what had happened, while Dan barely kept the car on the road.

Disbelief on his face, the adoptive father asked, "_He did nothing?_ What about the police, I mean the aurors? What did they do? Didn't they arrest anyone? I've hardly read anything about it in the paper in the last week. They made it sound like some kind of sporting accident." He couldn't remember that last time that he was so angry.

Unfortunately, his rage was turning into cold fury and with his son's limited experience with family matters, he was taking it wrong. The lad muttered, "I don't know. I'm sorry I got you in this mess."

Emma stopped his line of thought in its tracks and declared, "Harry, we've _never _regretted adopting you, not for a moment. _This isn't your fault_. I'm certain that Amelia Bones feels the same way for being magical guardian to both of you." She gave Dan _the look_ and added, "That's enough for now. We'll talk more about this later."

… - …

While Harry and the Grangers were driving to their home, Amelia Bones had finally gotten Fudge to agree to hear the preliminary investigators' summary that Head Investigator Connie Hammer and Investigator Anna Daily had prepared. When Bones entered Fudge's office, she was disappointed, yet unsurprised, to see his primary lackey, Senior Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge seated in one of the guest chairs.

He began, "Good afternoon, Amelia. We are most anxious to hear the preliminary findings regarding Amos' boy's tragic death. Hopefully, your report will put an end to all of the wild speculation that I've been hearing and we can return to business as usual. Please begin."

"After finishing the Tri Wizard Tournament at roughly the same time, Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter mutually agreed to grab the cup together; theoretically ending the contest in a tie. Barty Crouch Junior admitted to turning the cup into a two-way portkey, that took both the boys to a cemetery in Little Hangleton, a small village near Leeds. They arrived at 8:30 PM on 24 June."

Fudge nodded, and she continued. "Harry stated that Cedric was murdered almost immediately, by Peter Pettigrew, who was ordered to by an unseen person. Cedric certainly died as a result of being hit by the killing curse and rigor-mortis was absent, when the body was recovered, at 9:05 PM. The broken wand that was found and recovered by Connie Hammer and photographed at the scene by Anna Daily was identified by both Professor Sprout and Amos as having belonged to Cedric."

To Amelia's profound annoyance, Umbridge simpered, "Perhaps I misheard you, Amelia; you stated that Peter Pettigrew murdered Cedric. There's no evidence that he's alive."

Amelia already suspected that Fudge was more interested in an effective cover-up than in the truth. Umbridge's comment only confirmed her suspicion. She elected not to argue the point and continued, "Potter stated that he was tied up and bound to a headstone that faced another stone marked as Tom Riddle. Anna photographed a grave where the grass was flattened down next to a stone marked Tom Riddle Jr."

Fudge responded, "The grass could have been trampled down by picnickers, or a grieving widow."

"True," admitted Bones, polishing her monocle for effect, "Though Riddle's date of death was 1945."

"Inconclusive," declared Umbridge, as if her proclamation made it so.

Amelia pressed, "Connie and Anna documented and photographed nineteen spell marks, freshly cast, mostly A-Ks, piercing hexes, cruciatus curses or blasting hexes."

Umbridge challenged, "Potter could have cast those spells."

"I suppose he could have," reflected Amelia, hoping that her toad-faced colleague would have gone down this path. Bones continued, "But there is ample evidence that he didn't. The last five spells that were cast on his wand were checked immediately after he was freed from Crouch Junior. Except for an _Expelliarmus_, they match the last spells displayed on the screens during the Tournament. You were there watching, Minister; what did they say before they grabbed the cup?"

"I, er…" stammered Fudge. In fact, he had been more focused on worming more gold out of Lucius for improvements to his vacation home in Spain than on a school contest that had already been disgraced.

"Inconclusive," restated Umbridge, coming to his aid. "Sirius Black could have fired those curses, chasing Potter around until he managed to reactivate that blasted portkey."

"Ironic that you should mention that, Dolores. When Dumbledore and I interviewed Harry that night, he stated that the Death Eaters apparated to the graveyard, at the reborn Voldemort's command. Potter counted the Death Eaters and Voldemort named some of them as he spoke individually with them. Shall we review the names now?"

Potter could have gotten those names off of old trial records," shouted Fudge, clearly not wanting to hear Malfoy's name mentioned.

"I suppose he could have," admitted Amelia in a soft voice, as she strived to lower the tension for a moment. After a sip of her tea, she added, "Of course I haven't mentioned who he named yet. Was Lucius with you the entire time that the boys were gone?"

"I, er… didn't notice in all, all of the…" stammered Fudge.

"He must have been," declared Umbridge.

"I wasn't aware that you were at the Tournament, Dolores. Where were you sitting that you could see the Minister and Mr. Malfoy the entire time?"

Dolores thought fast. She was at the Fox and Hound at the time, half-baked and wanting nothing to do with a contest that involved foreigners and half-breeds. She recalled that too many people had seen her that night and replied, "I was on Ministry business. Potter could have made all of that up."

Amelia simply inquired, "True, but _why?_"

Umbridge shouted her conclusion, "Because he's a filthy half-blood liar, who's seeking attention."

Even Fudge backed away from that declaration. He gave her a startled look.

Amelia suggested, "Perhaps we should review his memory of the evening."

"Inadmissible," declared Fudge.

"I wasn't aware that anyone was on trial," replied Bones, looking at the man to see where he would take this.

Umbridge remarked, "He could have modified his memories."

Bones observed, "Alejandro Croaker perhaps, but not a fourteen year-old boy."

"Enough!" shouted Fudge. "Director, turn the investigation over to someone else."

She raised her eyebrows and asked, "Are you suggesting that the lead investigator of the DMLE is incompetent or somehow biased?"

"No; simply that there may be more than one interpretation of the preliminary evidence. No one is disputing the Diggory boy's death, yet who is to say that it wasn't a tragic accident resulting from the Tournament, something plotted by Crouch Junior, or perhaps Sirius Black may have been behind it?"

"Potter's statement was that Peter Pettigrew was responsible."

"_Peter Pettigrew is dead_. He died a hero's death, killed by Sirius Black."

"Black was never convicted of that, or even tried. Besides, no one ever found a body."

"For Merlin's sake, Amelia, they found a finger."

"True, but someone found Mad-Eye's leg and he's not dead. There's no evidence whatever that Black had anything to do with this."

"That's hearsay."

"Please understand, Minister, there's nothing in the evidence collected that disputes Harry's statement."

"Again, that's open to interpretation. Perhaps another opinion is in order, one less involved; perhaps John Dawlish should review the evidence."

"Hit Wizard Dawlish couldn't give an unbiased report about the time of day."

"He's the captain of my guard."

"Exactly my point, Minister. While I'm certain that he's good at protective detail, he's not an investigator. I understand your point, given Harry's involvement. How about Rufus? He's had nothing to do with the Tournament. He can review the evidence that Connie and Anna collected. We can meet again next week and present it to the Wizengamot, if needed."

Fudge glanced at his assistant (even he privately agreed with those who called her toad face) whether her saw her nod, or suppress a belch was inconclusive, but he took it as an affirmation and declared, "Acceptable. Contact Scrimgeour and we'll meet next Saturday at three."

Amelia nodded in resignation. Her public argument to Dumbledore last October that he should relinquish his magical guardianship of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger due to conflict of interest was turning on her in this situation. He had reluctantly signed the guardianship over to her, rather than Arthur Weasley, primarily due to a poorly timed burst of independence on Harry's part. Now Harry was the last person known to have seen Cedric alive and objectively, her role with the distressed teen placed her at less than an arm's length distance from the investigation of Cedric's murder. She knew that Rufus had political ambitions, but believed that he could objectively review the evidence. "She replied, "As you wish, Minister. Believe what you want. I'll take my leave now. I'll talk with Connie and Anna and direct them to provide Captain Scrimgeour with a copy of all of the documentation and evidence." With that, she closed the door behind her.

_Her attitude could become a problem,_ thought Fudge.

"She's not the problem," declared the toad-faced women as she pulled down on her cardigan. "The first problem is Dumbledore. He'll never keep quiet about this; regardless of what you direct him to do. He'll have to quickly be discredited and placed on a short leash. No, the real problem is Potter. We have no leverage on him." More to herself, she added, "Something will have to be done to stop the boy's lies."

… - …

The creature once known as Tom Riddle sat in a high-backed, ornately carved chair pondering his situation. After the ignoble gathering following his rebirth, Lucius had offered the use of his Wiltshire manor house. However insincere the offer, Voldemort took the blond aristocrat at his word. He correctly surmised that the Aurors would soon begin investigating that boy's murder, and his own home would be unavailable for use. Riddle took over the north wing of the large estate. It had several outside entrances, so covert access would not be an issue. He directed Lucius to block off the inside passageway to the rest of the estate and not to mention his presence to either Narcissa or Draco; telling them that they were hosting an important foreign visitor, who did not want to be disturbed.

Malfoy also provided the Dark Lord with 500,000 galleons in coin for his use; hoping that he would use it as seed money and not demand more. Additionally, he provided the services of Binks, the house elf; secretly hoping that he wouldn't get called upon to run common errands for his Master.

That accomplished the first evening there; Riddle hadn't spoken with Lucius in the last week; instead relying on Binks or Wormtail to do his bidding. He had used the time to summon each of his marked followers individually and speak with, or to them. Some, like Snape, were spoken debriefed extensively – in that case, it was a combination of testing the young wizard's loyalty and gathering information. Satisfied with Snape's explanations and groveling, Riddle sent him back to the castle to resume his real position at the school. Snape was given an extensive list of potions to brew in the next two weeks; a small sack of coins to purchase ingredients and strict instructions '_not arouse suspicions on the part of the Old Fool.'_ Others, such as the elder Avery and Parkinson were advised of the amounts and timeframe of their expected contributions.

Of the forty marked Death Eaters that stood in Riddle's service as of October 1981;

* Twenty-two stood with him in the graveyard

* Six had died, or previously been killed

* Six were in Azkaban

* Karkarov had deserted him

* Snape had returned into the fold

* and Barty Junior had been captured and given a Dementor's Kiss

The other three were known to be loyal, but were currently out of the country, beyond the reach of his Mark. He could also call on the services of several dozen unmarked witches and wizards aligned to his cause – Borgin, Burke, and Felsenthal in Diagon Alley, Edgecombe, Amslowe, and Thicknesse at the ministry, a few others, as well as a handful of spouses and older children.

Riddle was realistic enough to realize that while twenty-five to thirty witches and wizards formed a nice core of followers; especially those possessing substantial amounts of readily available gold, they were, for the most part, out of practice, overweight, and far better suited to making back-room deals than delivering death and mayhem against any competent advisories.

In the short-term, he needed to engage the most capable or expandable of his marked followers to engage against a few soft targets. In the intermediate term, he needed to recruit a majority of the older students at Hogwarts and those who recently finished. In the long term, once his general ranks were restored, thugs and hired muscle could be rented to extend his reach.

Riddle planned to remain unseen by the Ministry as well as ordinary witches and wizards. Instead he would direct small attacks against outmatched opponents. The attacks would have several benefits – removal of small obstacles, reconditioning of his out-of-shape followers and milk-runs for new recruits to either prove themselves or be killed.

As good as he felt that strategy was, Riddle admitted that he needed to quickly retrieve his most loyal and most capable fighters – the Lestranges, Dolohov, the sadistic torturer Travers, and the extraordinarily gifted near-genius, Rookwood. They were the ones would could deliver death. They were the ones who could inspire and competently train the young recruits. They were the ones who could be counted on to plan the detail of an operation, point the hired muscle at an enemy, and emerge victorious.

Azkaban would be breached by year-end.

As of yet, his fear that Potter would widely report what he'd witnessed and that the identified Death Eaters would quickly be captured hadn't materialized. Apparently the boy either hadn't reported what he'd seen, was insufficiently convincing, or Lucius' speculation that Fudge would simply stick his head in the sand had come true.

… - …

Sirius Black looked around the shabby room and all but concluded that Dumbledore's reconstituted Order of the Phoenix was worthless. As he finished his second lowball of Ogden's, he realized that with the possible exception of Alastor Moody, no one was battle ready. Scratch that, Black recalled that Moody had spent the last ten months locked in an unlit 5x8 foot compartment in his own trunk. He wasn't ready either.

Fifteen years ago, they had been an adequate covert force, supplementing a rapidly failing ministry. Yet the losses had mounted. The McKinnens, the Prewetts, the Bones had fallen. Wormtail turned traitor, James and Lily were cut down and Frank and Alice were worse than dead. By any measure, the Order had lost its best people.

In their stead sat Arthur and his harpy of a wife, a wounded warrior, a squib who couldn't even keep little Harry from being beaten, Sturgis Podmore, who Sirius didn't know well, but believed that he was a bookkeeper, Remus and McGonagall. Nine – nine people making up a group who didn't even need to sit in the musty dining room. They easily fit around the scrubbed oak country table that sat in the kitchen.

To make matters worse, his old enemy, Snivellus walked into the room, looked around, sneered and declared, "Have you lowered your hygienic standards to those that you'd grown accustomed to on the island, Black?"

Dumbledore wouldn't even give him the satisfaction of fighting his own battles and responded, "Now Severus, you must realize that the home that Sirius has so graciously made available for our use has been unoccupied for years and will take some time to return to its former glory. Perhaps you'd care to assist?"

"Headmaster, I have more important tasks to accomplish than light housekeeping for a criminal and his pet wolf. Perhaps if the mutt were housebroken, this… facility would at least smell better next time."

Black lurched forth and shouted, "You sniveling coward, son of a bitch," but was held back by Lupin.

Dumbledore bypassed the unpleasantness, stating, "Now that we are all here, we can be seated and get started. Severus has informed me that Lord Voldemort had indeed returned and has a nearly human form."

Having heard this a week ago, Black demanded, "And what is being done about it? Where is he? Have the Auror force and the Hit Wizards been informed and mobilized? Are they recruiting? Why is nothing in the _Prophet_? When can we go after them?"

As Molly looked scandalized at Black's rudeness, Dumbledore simply evaded his questions, declaring, "At present, we are ill-prepared to directly confront either Tom or any of his followers. We need to focus on gathering information. Arthur and Sturgis, you need to be on the lookout for signs that the ministry had been subverted. Alastor; please do the same with your former colleagues at the DMLE. Minerva, perhaps you could identify and speak with a few of the recently finished students, who might be willing to take up our cause. Molly, may I impose upon you to assist Sirius in making this fine home a bit more hospitable. Remus, can you check with your contacts to see if Tom had contacted Fenrir to rejoin him?"

"What about the Ministry?" interrupted Sirius. "Was Amelia given budget to begin recruiting? Who is going after the current Death Eaters?"

Dumbledore sighed at Black's inconsiderate behavior and admitted, "Unfortunately, Cornelius was unreceptive to both Harry and myself at the end of the tournament. Barty Junior was Kissed before we could get any meaningful testimony."

"If Snivellus hadn't interfered last year, Pettigrew would have been brought to justice. Instead his stupid story about Harry and his friends being confounded has started the ball rolling again."

"Perhaps," admitted Snape, in his silky voice, "But if _true justice_ had been served, you would have been Kissed that night for your crimes as well and I wouldn't be sitting in this filthy dump."

That was one step too far for Sirius, who declared, "Snape, you'll leave this house and not return. Kreacher." With a pop, the greasy potion master had vanished.

Looking disappointed, Dumbledore admonished, "Sirius, your action was uncalled for. Severus has a difficult role to perform and you're not making it easier."

Sirius shot back, "Bullshit, Dumbledore. Did he confirm any of the Death Eaters' names, or report any of that monster's current plans? Has his information ever been timely enough to have been acted on? Did he capture Wormtail? No, no and no. He's done nothing, and you still walk around with a semi every time that his name comes out of your lips."

Gathering up steam, he continued, "_You have no plan_. Even if you did, you'll never tell anyone. Be gone! Go back to your castle or your crappy home and cook dinner for your brood on your own. Aside from Remus, Mad Eye's the only one here that's worth a damn in a fight. You haven't even found me a properly fitting wand. Molly, your brood's _never_ moving in here. Out. Now."

… - ..

As he sat down on his ornately carved high-backed chair, the old headmaster reflected. _That could have gone better._ He'd contact the members individually and confirm their assignments.

Reflecting back on the big picture, he lamented "Harry's relatives are in prison (for child abuse) so that safe-house is lost." He now regretted signing guardianship of Harry to Amelia. Not that she was untrustworthy; rather it closed a door of access to ready funding and the old professor knew as well as any general that waging war was expensive – both in terms of gold and blood.

There were an unknown number of horcruxes to find and his absolute belief remained that young Harry would need to sacrifice himself to allow Tom to finally be finished off. He dwelled on the words that Sybil had uttered that October night … _and either might die at the hands of the other_.

Dumbledore knew that quietly destroying the horcruxes was the key to defeating Riddle. Yes, he had put off searching for the abominations for the last two years, since Harry's return from the Chamber of Secrets with a destroyed diary – time that in hindsight could have been used to train Harry, find and destroy another of them, or at least coerce Horace and confirm the quantity that Tom had set out to make, but there were always other priorities. As the muggles were fond of saying, that was now water under the bridge. He popped another sherbet lemon into his mouth and opened an unexpected letter from the ICW.

… - …

While Sirius was pointing out Dumbledore's hard support for his Potion Master, Harry and the Grangers had finished their welcome-back dinner at the local Asian restaurant that the teens liked and arrived at their home in Crawley.

As the magicals found their way back to their respective rooms, Emma asked, "What should we do, Dan? Harry doesn't sound like Professor Dumbledore's got a plan to actually fight those men and Hermione's too awed by authority figures to see anything but sunshine."

Dan replied, "I think Harry should invite Amelia and Susan over for lunch or dinner tomorrow. They need to finish their conversation and Amelia needs to be able to ask her questions without any reporters hovering around them."

Harry picked out a video cassette movie to watch for the night. Hermione gave him a sour look when he picked out _The Good, the Bad and the Ugly_. It clearly wasn't her favorite, but she was glad that they were all home together.

… - …

The two Bones women arrived at the Granger/Potter home at one o'clock the next day. In spite of the perfect weather, Amelia's news wasn't pleasant. While the three teens were enjoying each other's company in the pool, she stated, "In short, Fudge won't budge. He's so indebted to Lucius that he'll never publically announce Riddle's return."

Dan asked, "So you absolutely believe Harry's version of the events of that night?"

Amelia replied, "Absolutely, but…"

Emma declared, "The Minister controls the purse strings."

"And this Malfoy fellow controls the Minister," added Dan. "He's one of the Death Eaters that Harry specifically mentioned that he saw there that night. Aside from deciding your overall budget, can this Fudge fellow make a lot of trouble for you? Do you report to him?"

"To your questions, yes and no. The Minister sets and can change my budget, but I report to the head of the Wizengamot."

"Dumbledore," grimaced Dan. "That puts you between See-No-Evil and Do-No-Thing, resulting in a completely defensive posture. You'll _never_ win a war that way. The only thing worse would be if half of those followers had diplomatic immunity."

Amelia rubbed her eyes and admitted, "That's the short of it. Malfoy Avery, Nott, Goyle, Parkinson and Flint have seats in our Wizengamot – a one-house version of your Parliament that also serves a judicial function. They and their cronies have a solid one-third voting bloc. Given the conservative nature of the others, they can stall just about anything that they wish."

Emma asked, "What about the kids? What can they do? What can we do to help them? Are they at least allowed to defend themselves? Can they get a permit to use magic?"

"To answer your questions, they're _all_ targets and need to learn to defend themselves. Officially, a Trace is placed on their wands to monitor underage magic cast until they turn seventeen. The trace is on the wand itself. A further trace can be placed to monitor a location. For example, I know that Fudge had placed on Privet Drive when Harry turned eleven. To my knowledge, there isn't one monitoring your home. To be honest, I'm certain that it is not widely known within the Ministry that you adopted Harry two years ago."

Emma replied, "After he fought that gigantic…" she searched a moment to recall the word, "Basilisk that had petrified Hermione, removing him from those horrible people seemed like the absolute least that we could do."

Amelia filed her comment to ask about later and continued, "An underage wizard or witch is allowed to use magic to defend themselves, but doing so will almost always result in a disciplinary hearing. Finally, it is all but impossible for an underage wizard to obtain a use of magic permit, while it is fairly easy for a witch to do. The rational is to allow an underage witch to cast contraceptive charms on herself."

Ignoring the inequity, Dan inquired, "Hermione mentioned something about warding to keep a property protected. How could we check into that?"

Amelia replied, "Warding of properties is only lightly regulated by the Ministry. Generally, the work is performed by Curse-breakers – almost all of whom are employed by Gringotts bank, which has their own policies. That said, I think it would be a very prudent idea for you to add them to your home, to the extent that you can afford them."

Dan replied, "Thanks. We'll go there tomorrow and find out what they can do to help us."

… - …

Sunday 4 July

As the adults were discussing a small list of options, Hermione and Susan had taken it upon themselves to mercilessly tease Harry. Pointedly glancing at Susan's wet, white bikini top, an innocent voiced Hermione inquired, "Do you like what you see, Harry?"

Harry stammered an affirmative reply, then gathered his courage to add, "Very much. Thank you both."

It had been their mutual intent to raise his spirits. Glancing at Harry, who was standing sideways from her, Hermione concluded that they had been successful.

… - …

When the teens were done swimming, and everyone had finished their lunches, Amelia brought out her pensieve and asked Harry if he would be willing to share his memory of that night. With a a quick wand-tap against the requisite runes, she projected the memory atop the bowl for all to see. Emma and Susan were physically sick when they reached the point when Cedric was so senselessly murdered. Hermione joined them when the newly reborn Dark Lord commanded, _"Robe me."_

Dan watched carefully as Riddle addressed the circle of Death Eaters, and began putting to most of them. Many of the men were unmasked. Amelia identified most of those unmentioned by Riddle and was pleased when her tally matched Harry's previously reported estimate of twenty-two.

… - …

Monday 5 July

The sun shone brightly through the kitchen window early Monday morning, as they reviewed the plans for the day while having a light breakfast. Emma had two patients scheduled for morning appointments. Their number 15 and 18 molars needed work, so Dan was the designated taxi service for the day. He remarked, "Let's leave at half seven and try to get to the bank by nine."

After they cleaned up and got ready, Hermione came down the stairs wearing a white blouse and faded jeans, while Harry wore his wool school robes. She asked, "Won't you be too hot in those? Besides, we might do a bit of shopping outside after." Outside meant being out of Diagon Alley.

"I'll be fine," he insisted, even though the forecast was for a very warm, humid day. After an uneventful drive, they found a spot in a car park and Dan fed the meter for a three-hour visit.

As they walked into the Leaky Cauldron, Harry failed to notice some of the looks that the various patrons were giving the three of them. They ran a bit wider than the usual range from adoration for the Tri-Wizard champion to annoyance for the obvious muggleborns, to a very dark look given to Harry from a man who was acquainted with Amos Diggory. Hermione suddenly felt underdressed, with no easy recourse.

"Come on," encouraged Harry as he tapped the bricks to the Alley in the correct order.

As they walked the length of the Alley, Dan noticed that several of the shops had signs posted on the front windows, indicating rooms for rent – presumable the space above the storefront. Passing one of the robe shops, he asked, "On the way back, would you like to stop in and get a set of everyday summer robes? Everyone seems to have one on and your winter wool set must be dreadfully hot on a day like this."

The teens replied in unison, "Yes, Dad/Dan."

Finally, they walked up to the marble steps, nodding politely at the two guards holding their halberds, standing ramrod straight. Dan reflected, "The tower guards could take lessons from these guys."

As they reached the counter, an old teller with long stringy orange hair put down a ruby that he was examining with a jewelers loupe and inquired, "How may Gringotts assist you today, Mr. Potter?"

Dan felt slightly affronted that his still fourteen-year-old adopted son was the one being addressed, but said nothing. Harry replied, "I'm interested in getting information and pricing on getting a home warded."

The old goblin, replied, "My name is Sneerwell. I can assist you. Step into the Bronze room over there and I'll be with you in two minutes." He pointed to the conference room at the other end of the spacious lobby, placed the _next window_ placard in front of his counter window and went to get some documents.

"So far, so good," quipped Dan, as they took places on the octagonal conference table.

Sneerwell joined them within a minute, sat down and asked, "Which of your properties are you inquiring about, Mr. Potter? The cottage in Godric's Hollow is uninhabitable, Potter Manor is inaccessible to you until your seventeenth birthday, the property in Spain is leased out…"

Hermione interjected, "We're referring to our home in Crawley," and recited the street number.

Sneerwell wrote the address on a parchment and seconds later another, much younger goblin handed Sneerwell a document. He looked at it, reflected for a moment and replied, "Per British Wizarding law, warding assistance is unavailable to nonmagicals. The property that you spoke of is titled to a Daniel Scott Granger and still has a mortgage." Sneerwell pointed his long finger at Dan and declared, "You've no magical blood. Our hands are tied in this matter. Do you have other business today, Mr. Potter?"

Hermione, almost in tears declared, "That's not fair!"

Sneerwell replied, "Please accept that there is little in life that is _fair_, Miss Granger. You might wish to examine the property regulations brochures in the information racks back in the lobby. Mr. Potter, did you have other business?"

Inspired by an idea, Harry replied, "Yes, please. I'd like to visit my vault."

Sneerwell nodded encouragingly and replied, "Griphook will meet you in the cart queue."

Dan added, "I'll walk with you, Harry. Hermione won't be long."

Hermione was certain that Sneerwell was being more helpful than he'd initially seemed. She walked across the lobby to the information racks and began gathering up brochures_. 'There had to be something there.'_

She started collecting a copy of each pamphlet.

… - …

Outside, Draco Malfoy and Marcus Flint were walking up to the bank. Draco came to withdraw the summer allowance that his parents had set up for him. Marcus came to gold for more firewhiskey. After two years he was still playing reserve beater for Birmingham – a job that his father had landed for him upon completing Hogwarts, but at least it was work. The team was on a three game losing streak, and Marcus was well on his way to becoming a mean drunk.

They reached the doors of Gringotts and sneered at the two guards. Draco muttered something about animals. As they passed, they didn't see the two guards tightening their grips on the fearsome looking pole axes.

… - …

Down at his vault, Harry quickly counted the stacks and filled sixty-thousand galleons into six sacks and brought them to the cart, one at a time, while Griphook waited. When he was through, he calculated that he had about twelve thousand galleons remaining. As the four thousand galleons for his fifth year had already been paid, Harry estimated that if he was careful with his remaining gold, he'd be all right until he finished school.

While his adoptive parents insisted on providing him with the everyday essentials and a loving home, Harry had insisted over their protests of paying for his Hogwarts education. They compromised and bought him his books, uniforms, supplies and the like. In return, Harry saved them a considerable amount each year by acting as their currency exchange broker; four percent of twenty-five thousand in sterling saved per year added up.

Like Hermione, he concluded that what Sneerwell hadn't said was as important as what he'd actually told them. He stuffed fifty loose galleons into his pocket and placed the last of six sacks into the oar cart. Griphook stepped out, closed Harry's vault, handed the teen back his key and asked, "Any other business, Mr. Potter?"

Harry replied, "Please. I'll need to exchange these for pound notes when we get back to the lobby."

… - …

The mean drunk-in-training was still half lit from the night before and quickly spotted the teen in muggle attire bent over to pick up a brochure that was on the floor. With Draco firmly in the backup role, he followed Flint as the twenty year old homed in on his prey.

Flint shoved Hermione with his foot and in a too-loud voice began deriding the now fearful teen. "Hey bitch, here to be the joy-joy girl for the goblins? That mouth of yours never stopped when you were at school. You can try it out here; I've got a few spare knuts."

In an attention grabbing loud voice Hermione spit, "Leave me alone, you animals." She got up but Flint pushed her down again; simultaneously drawing the attention of two of the indoor guards and an enraged father.

Fortunately, the guards got there first and in an instant, cold steel was pressed tightly against human flesh. "Insolent humans," declared the smaller of the two guards. "You will obey our laws on our land. Leave now, or bleed."

Dan wisely did nothing, recalling the military axiom; _never interrupt your enemy when he's making a mistake. _The blond boy did not disappoint him. In a completely disrespectful tone he drawled, "I'm here on business, Goblin. Get lost."

The guard was not amused and in a dangerous voice declared, "For the last time insolent human, leave or bleed." The other guard pressed the razor sharp pole-ax against the blond fool's collar, slicing through the silk fabric and announced, "You can come back in a month after you have learned some common manners. Until then, you are banned from the bank."

"When my father hears this…"

The first goblin cut him off, staring him in the eye for a long moment before stating, "He'll be quite angry to learn that your poor behavior is the reason that your entire family is banned from the bank for thirty days. Good day, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco made a move to argue and the larger guard asked, "Would you like to make it sixty days? You too, smelly one." He gave the two troublemakers a slight push toward the door.

With that, Draco muttered, "You'll get yours, Mudblood."

… - …

At the other end of the lobby, Harry was handed a brushed aluminum case filled with fifty-pound notes. He looked at Griphook, who explained, "Sixty-thousand galleons converted to pound sterling at the preferred customer rate of five point five pounds per galleon is three hundred thirty thousand sterling, gross - times the conversion fee of four percent is thirteen thousand two hundred pounds, discounted seventy-five percent, nets to three hundred twenty six thousand seven hundred pounds. That gives you sixty-five bundles of fifty-pound notes and some loose bills. The case is complements of Senior Teller Sneerwell. Mr. Potter, do you have any other business with us today?"

Harry had given up trying to work out the math, but remembered the words preferred customer and discount, replied, "Not today, Griphook. You've been very helpful. Thank you."

"The pleasure was indeed mine, Mr. Potter. I believe that Miss Granger and her father are by the front entrance, waiting for you. Return when you are ready and we'll be happy to further assist you. Good day."

… - …

When Harry reached Hermione, she was clutching a thick wad of brochures and was red-faced. He asked, "Did you find what you needed?" The next thing that he knew, he was engulfed by his best friend, who let out a sob. He quietly asked, "All right?"

Hermione sobbed, "Malfoy and that oaf, Flint were bothering me." He gave her a reassuring squeeze and she continued, "He's such an arse. I wasn't even looking at them. How could I have offended him? I never even talked with him in school."

"Don't know," replied Harry. He looked her in the eye and stated, "You didn't do _anything wrong_. They're just mentally defective. Let's go get new robes and say hi to Mr. Fortescue. Maybe he has some new flavors." He wiped the remaining tears from the sides of her eyes.

Hermione smiled and said, "Thanks Harry, thanks Dad." Dan glanced pointedly at the two guards who were maintaining a respectful distance and the teen witch surprised them by hugging them both.

As they were gathering their things, Sneerwell walked back to them and offered, "Mr. Potter, I took the liberty and had these made for you; they are reusable portkeys." They were beautifully crafted platinum wristwatches. "Upon activation, they will take you from anywhere into either the bank lobby or just outside the front door of Mr. Granger's home. Reliable transportation is always useful. To activate them, place your hand over the watch face and say either _Crawley_ or _lobby_. As your needs change, you can bring them back and get more locations added."

He handed one to Harry, then Hermione, then Dan and said, "They are yours for your lifetime. I took the liberty of charging your main vault. It is five hundred galleons for the set. Before Hermione could ask, the old goblin smirked as he handed Harry another of the ladies watches and said, "For Miss Granger's mother. These are dangerous times, Mr. Potter; as you've witnessed. Wear them well."

Harry looked at the old goblin for a moment, nodded and replied, "Thank you, Sneerwell. You have done us several great services today. Thank you again."

Sneerwell added, "I knew your father slightly and your grandfather more so. They too were men of honor. Good day." With that, he walked back to his window.

As they exited, the larger of the guards motioned Dan over and said, "There is no honor in attacking a young female, Mr. Granger. Those men have no morals, no honor. Do not fear them, but do not ignore them either. They are sick animals."

Dan nodded again in agreement and walked his teens out the door.

ooo ccc ooo

The leaves were red and gold as Professor McGonagall fondly reminisced of reading reports written by old friends. As if in answer to her thoughts, she heard the familiar rumble of the old Harley V-Twin slowly coming up the road.

Happy memories flooded her mind and she smiled. Then she recalled the missing student and indecent attire and her lips thinned. As the door to her office opened she gave him a piercing look and sighed, "Good afternoon, Mr. Crow. It's been three years. What brings you back?"

The old scribe recalled the promise that he'd made to himself after his Scot friend finished his series of reports on Harry Crow.

After he left, the gray haired professor noticed the slip of paper that read _west of here_ – 10015981. She recalled that the numbers meant something and decided to study it.


	2. Sneerwell

**Chapter Two - Sneerwell**

Monday 5 July

It was nearly dinner time when Emma and the other three caught up with each other, as _a little outside shopping_ turned out to be most of the afternoon. Harry, Hermione and Dan were fitted for gray lightweight robes and Hermione picked out a similar one for her mum.

When she showed her mum the robes after they got home, Emma inquired, "Why so plain?"

Harry suggested, "Sometimes it's better to just blend in."

"Hermione had a bit of trouble today at the bank." admitted Dan.

At that point, they had Emma's complete and undivided attention. She was far too sensitive of those words, due to the playground abuse that her beloved daughter had repeatedly endured in primary school. Slowly, she asked, "_Exactly_ what happened?"

Hermione replied, "Pretty much the same as fourth year in Primary – a bit of shoving and some name calling."

Emma recalled that teenage girls get teased – frequently by boys who were interested in them, but who lacked the social skills to properly express themselves. It was an unpleasant fact of life. Yet somehow, this didn't feel like a bit of ordinary teasing, so she inquired further. "Did you know them? How old were they?" Her unasked question was, _Dan, where were you?_

Harry watched in silence as Hermione replied, "Yes. About fifteen and twenty." No one had ever stood up for him after any of his beatings or harassments while growing up. He usually had to make dinner for the perpetrators. It was comforting to see the love of a parent in action.

Realizing that she couldn't simply phone the teacher anymore, Emma asked, "So what happened?"

Dan jumped in. "Emma, it was a thing of beauty. These two goblin guards with enormous poleaxes suggested that the two little bastards could leave or bleed."

Emma was no promoter of violence, but like her husband, a part of her felt like she'd just been handed back a packet of payback for the dozens of useless calls that they'd made in Hermione's third and fourth year of primary.

Harry added, "I don't know if it was a result of Hermione getting bothered, or if it was already in the works, but Sneerwell, the goblin that we met with, sold me these." He pulled the platinum watch out of his pocket and requested, "Put it on, please."

Emma looked at the beautiful watch face, held by the most finely crafted bracelet that she'd ever seen, let alone worn. All but speechless, she replied, Harry, it's the most beautiful timepiece that I've ever seen. Why did you purchase…?"

Before her mum could unintentionally say something that would surely shatter Harry's feelings, Hermione announced, "They're reusable portkeys – magical devices that can instantly transport you to a prearranged destination. In this case, they're set to take you either here, or the bank lobby, depending on how they're activated." She held hers out and added, "Harry bought us all one. Aren't they pretty?"

Harry beamed as he watched his adoptive mum examine her new jewelry with the same wonderment as a newly-engaged girl. All she could say was, "Thank you, Harry. It's beautiful and I love it." Her hug felt like heaven to him.

After a minute, a misty-eyed Emma said, "Let's back up. What happened first?"

Dan replied, "When we went through the dingy pub, a few of the patrons looked at Hermione, actually all of us, a bit stranger than normal; probably due to all of the trash that reporter Skeeter invented about the tournament."

Hermione nodded and added, "Maybe, but I wasn't wearing my robes either."

Emma, who'd heard tales of countless rationalizations of _she was dressed like she wanted it_ from her health care colleagues wanted to immediately say something in her defense, but given her first-hand accounts of the Victorian viewpoints, she felt that her daughter may have had a point and forced herself to say, "Go on."

"We got to the bank and the Senior Teller spoke with us, well he spoke with Harry, really. He stated that it was against wizarding law for goblins to ward property owned by a nonmagical. I think that he was implying that we could do it ourselves."

"Or retitle the property," suggested her adoptive son.

"What do you mean, Harry," asked Emma as she eyed her daughter's slight annoyance from not being called on.

He recalled, "Last Sunday, Director Bones all but told us that we could go out and do magic if we went out and bought some used wands. That's fine, but even if we could find them, we can't turn into warding experts overnight. When I was going down to my vault, Griphook mentioned a few things and I had an idea. I'll be right back."

Hermione was going to add that she was sure that she could do a few simple warding spells if she had a wand that she could use, when Harry returned. He carefully put the aluminum case on the table, slid it an inch toward Dan and said, "Here. Take this."

Dan's eyes all but rolled back when he opened the case and suddenly felt like he was on the set of his favorite television show, _Miami Vice_. The only thing missing was the pounding drums. Finally he uttered, "Harry, what the…?"

In a calm voice, he rationalized, "We know it's illegal to pay to have a home owned by nonmagicals warded – probably so wizards don't just go out and steal or hide peoples' houses right out from underneath them. So if I bought this house today, we could have it fully warded tomorrow."

Emma pleaded, "No, Harry. No. We can't let you do that."

He couldn't find the words to express that his new family meant everything to him. Fortunately Hermione broke the silence and asked, "Harry, how much is in the case?

"A little more than 360K, I don't remember exactly. Isn't that enough? I didn't know and just grabbed some gold."

Emma admonished, "Dan, close the case. Harry, we can't do that; we simply can't take your money."

Hermione gave her _I'm thinking real hard _look_,_ and for half a minute there was silence around the table. Finally, she remarked, "Actually, Dad, I think it's a good idea."

Dan reflected on her words for a minute, glanced at Emma, who gave the tiniest of nods and replied, "We'll think about it. There might be some sort of buyback arrangement that our solicitor could work out. It might take a while though."

Harry wanted to just scream _take the money will you_, but recalled, "I think Griphook and Sneerwell were trying to tell us how to do it, but I think we need to go back to talk with them and ask the right questions."

Emma nodded and replied, "Even if we decided to do this, it might take a while to get the house assessed and the paperwork put together."

Feeling more confident of his idea, the messy haired teen replied, "Under an hour, if I know the goblins."

Emma nodded, and suggested, "Why not just change the name on our letterbox in the meanwhile?"

Dan asked, "What?"

Feeling like it was time to let her own frustrations out, Emma declared, "Those backwards, pureblood _wizards_ are so set in their ways. They'd probably pop onto our street, see the box with a different name and go away, thinking that they had the wrong address."

Still a bit miffed that her idea hadn't been discussed, Hermione observed, "Mum, that's completely stupid."

Emma quipped, "And thinking about some of the idiots and inbred Neanderthals that you've mentioned in your letters, _your point is?_ Besides, it only costs five quid and we can change it back in a week or two, when we get the other ideas sorted out."

So it was that Dan was sent to the store and returned a few minutes later with a sticker set. The name on the letterbox read Olifson, in honor of Emma's maiden name.

… - …

That evening, Voldemort was unsurprised to hear a knock on the door from the older Malfoy, who asked, "My lord, may we speak?"

"Come in, Lucius; some single-malt perhaps?" Riddle stifled a laugh that he was offering the blond aristocrat a drink from his own bar stock, for which he would be excessively grateful before getting around to discussing his issue."

Malfoy failed to disappoint and replied, "Thank you, My Lord. It's very good."

"What's on your mind, Lucius?"

"Potter's friend Granger is becoming a problem. She embarrassed Marcus Flint and my son in public today."

Riddle was enjoying himself. He nodded slightly and hissed, "Go on."

Lucius replied, "They had business at the bank and her whining got them banned from Gringotts for a month."

Riddle watched Malfoy carefully as he replied, "Conrad Selwyn was there at the time and showed me his memory. His version was somewhat… different. Your son and his witless friend embarrassed themselves several times over and managed to get your _entire_ family banned for a month. Did he mention that, too, or perhaps he gave you a weasel-worded explanation? When I have need of more funds, will you be able to accommodate me, or should I go to the Goblin Nation and argue his case on your behalf?"

Lucius acknowledged, "My Lord, it is evident that I was not told all of the facts, and admittedly presented them to you in the best possible light. I was…"

"Enough capitulation. Be sure to tell me the unvarnished truth in the future and we won't have a problem. So what recommendation did you have that you were hoping I'd say yes to?"

"Previously, you mentioned that your Death Eaters might be in need of a training mission. I was going to suggest that the Grangers be visited…"

"And murdered, raped, and tortured to soothe your son's far too-easily bruised feelings. Tell me, where do they live?"

"It can't be too far from London, my Lord. They were at the bank early and they must have used muggle transportation to get there. I was hoping that Wormtail…"

"Peter is out, performing a small task for me. I will ask him to find them tomorrow."

"Thank you, my Lord. If I may take my leave?"

"Lucius, your son acted like an arrogant spoiled brat and Flint's son, a common drunk. I will not tolerate such behavior from our kind, as it draws unwanted attention to us. Have I made my position clear?"

"Yes, my Lord. Crystal clear, my Lord. Thank you. It won't happen again. Thank you."

"Your hospitality earned you a free pass, Lucius. Your son's foolish behavior has consumed it. I'll contact you tomorrow after Wormtail has located the mudblood and her family. Take your leave now."

As he was dismissed from his own home, Malfoy muttered to himself, "That brainless twit won't sit for a week when I'm done with him."

… - …

Tuesday 6 July

Peter Pettigrew thought of himself as a technologically savvy man among wizards. When his master gave him the task of tracking down the Grangers, he simply apparated into London and found a red telephone booth that had a greater London telephone directory. He searched through the book, found the page and carefully ripped it out.

Granted, there were forty-six listings, but after crossing out the listings that only displayed initials, rather than first names, like A.W. Granger, because he remembered Lily telling him that that was how single women typically displayed their names to hide the fact that they were single women, he was left with only thirty-one listings.

Next, the wretched man purchased a street directory and map and began marking up the remaining listings on the map to make apparition easier.

Most of the addresses could be disqualified within minutes of reaching the home. He remembered Ron telling Molly that Hermione was an only child and that her parents were dentists. He began his search.

The first house that he went to had a young couple with three small children in the yard. Pettigrew carefully scratched that one off the list.

Number two was an elderly couple.

Number three was a man so old that he made number two look young.

Number four had moved away months ago.

And so it went as he worked his way through the list – too old, too young, too many children, one house obviously sold to a family named Olifson, another on vacation another unmarried. By the end of the day, Pettigrew had gotten halfway through the list.

… - …

While Pettigrew was abusing telephone directories, Amelia directed, "Rufus, I need your help." She motioned that the discussion would be in her conference room. They walked by the receptionist desk and Amelia closed the door after her. She observed the niceties and served the old Auror a cup of tea. After years of working together, the old fighter with more gray than brown in his jaw-length hair had earned it

Scrimgeour, Connie, Alastor, and Amelia were the last of what they referred to as the old school of Aurors, though Connie and Amelia were the youngest and Alastor the oldest by fifteen years. They all were street Aurors when Dumbledore finished off Gellert. By the time Voldemort was making his first rise in the early 70s they were on their way to their respective specialties Connie into investigation, Amelia into management. Scrimgeour had stayed on the street the longest and was currently Captain of the Aurors. Moody was forced into new Auror training duty due to his astoundingly large collection of accumulated injuries.

The old lion had heard a boatload of rumors about the Diggory boy, but most of them were based on wild speculation of the gooseshite variety – next to no substance. He asked, "Did Hammer and Daily finish the evidence collection?"

Amelia had previously decided not to attempt to lead Rufus to any conclusions, so she decided not to add information to his questions unless asked. As such, she simply replied, "Yes."

"Did they interview the Potter boy?"

"Yes."

"Did they collect a memory?"

"Specifically, I collected a copy in the presence of Dumbledore."

"Was it sealed and marked as evidence?"

"No. I initially collected it to show his adopted parents. We can always collect another."

"So you'll want to schedule Connie and Anna to go do that?"

"Correct."

"Do you have it here?"

"Yes. It's in the box on the table."

"Is everything there?"

"Copies. Everything is there except Cedric's broken wand."

Scrimgeour was both interested and a bit confused. From her words so far, or lack of them, there didn't seem to be any complicating factors and Amelia had great skill in arriving at proper conclusions. He wrote down a few quick notes.

* Complicating factors - who/what?

* Clarity of evidence?

* TWT – Upstream/Downstream?

* Why am I here – fresh eyes/recusal?

Having collected his thoughts, he asked, "How can I help?"

Amelia replied, "Take an hour to review the evidence. I'll send Connie and Anna to collect another copy from Harry. She'll be back within the hour. I'd like you to ask any clarifying questions of them that you might have. You might wish to watch the memory with them, as they've never seen it."

Rufus replied, "That sounds like a good plan, but why aren't you doing this? You're the best at connecting the dots."

"Confidentially, I assumed Harry's magical guardianship from Dumbledore at the beginning to the tournament. You'll probably want to get her report on Crouch Junior this afternoon. His part was upstream. Since I have a less than arms-length relationship with Harry, I am recusing myself from this stage of the investigation. To answer your question, I've made my conclusions and initially had a complete lack of success with Fudge, when he insisted on hearing the preliminary findings. This is too big to let pride get in the way."

Rufus doubted that she was bringing him onto the case unless there was some concern about Potter's possible responsibility over the Diggory boy's death, or there was some sort of conspiracy. He looked at her a moment to glean any extra insight. She suggested, "Just look it over and draw your own conclusions."

As she closed the door he reminded himself of the guidelines of evidence analysis;

* Be Observant

* Be Objective

* Don't rule anything out too quickly.

He refilled his tea cup and opened the box to get started.

… - …

As Rufus was opening the evidence box, Dan and Harry found themselves back in the Gringotts conference wearing their new gray robes. Sneerwell summarized the terms; pleased that Harry had caught his unspoken suggestion the day before.

*Fair market value on the property is 290,000 thousand pounds, Sterling.

*Harry agrees to pay you that amount today, in cash. In return, you and your wife agree to pay Harry 1,000 pounds a month, not in rent, rather to cover living expenses such as meals etc.

*Harry agrees that you have the first right of refusal in the event that he or his successors choose to sell the property.

*Harry agrees to pay Gringotts eight thousand two hundred galleons to fully ward the property – against uninvited wizards, wizards intending to harm either the property or occupants of the home, muggles intending to harm either the property or the occupants, apparition, except in a designated small location, portkeys, except for a small spot in the back garden, excluding the four reusable portkeys in your possession. Work will be completed within forty-eight hours of your signature.

*Harry further agrees that Miss Hermione Granger will keep out of the way of the warding crew and specifically agrees that she will ask them no questions."

Sneerwell asked, "Harry, do you agree to these terms? If so, sign here, here, here, here and there."

Harry picked up the quill that Sneerwell had handed to him and signed his name; thus ending his first experience with blood quills.

"Mr. Granger, if you agree, as Seller, sign here, here and there."

He did.

"Finally if you agree to the terms as Harry's adopted father, sign here and there."

He did.

Sneerwell admitted, "I thought that you would be back today and took the liberty of scheduling the warding crew. They should be at your new home in…" He looked at his watch and added, "In four minutes. Perhaps you should take your daughter to the library for the day."

Harry and Dan looked at each other and laughed. Sneerwell added, "Do you have any other business?"

Dan asked "How about our dental practice?"

"Address?"

Seconds later, the young runner opened the door and handed Sneerwell a document. The old teller examined it and remarked, "This is not a simple situation, unlike your home. You're leasing the space from a company that has multiple owners and tenants and neither of you possess the ready cash to purchase the building outright. The Potter estate could purchase the property, but it would take at least a month. The ultimate difficulty would be constructing wards that allow a large number of people to come and go while still hiding your property; especially when during the course of your work, many of the clients have thoughts which would easily exclude them from the wards that you currently are getting installed at Mr. Potter's new home."

He suggested, "An easier solution would be to reincorporate your business under a different name. As added protection, I would recommend leasing space in a different location. Please talk it over with Mrs. Granger and return next week and we will have several suitable locations vetted for you to choose from. That said, it is time for you to go collect Miss Granger. Good day."

… - …

As Hermione was being escorted to the local library for the day, Connie, Anna, and Rufus put down the notes that they'd made after collectively watching Potter's memory. Scrimgeour asked, "Do we have any reason to believe that Potter's memory was altered?"

Connie replied, "No. The detail was crisp and there were no blurred moments indicating that another memory had been inserted. That said; the best thing would be to have Croaker validate the evidence copy. I'll do that."

Rufus asked, "So what points are indisputable?"

Connie replied, "Cedric and Harry were portkeyed to the graveyard with no prior knowledge on their part."

Anna marked it down on the chalk board, then an idea of her own. "Cedric was murdered by this man, (X), on someone else's, (Y) verbal order."

He added his own. "The dark marks on the known Death Eaters had all but disappeared when Voldemort was thought to have been killed."

Anna added, "The time of the memory exactly matches the time that Harry and Cedric were gone."

As no one could come up with any more positively certain statements at the moment, Rufus asked, "What do we have that's slightly less certain?"

Anna started with, "This Man (X) apparently had a dark mark on his left inner-forearm and it was used to call The Bunch to the site."

Connie added, "(Y) appeared to know The Bunch and called them by name. Twenty-two people arrived."

"Known members of The Bunch were identified by (Y) and appear to physically resemble Peter Avery, Tom Avery, Alecto Carrow, Gary Gibbon, Kathryn and Conrad Parkinson, Walden Macnair, Fran Flint, Peter Nott, Wolfred Nott and Lucius Malfoy."

"Man (X) was called Wormtail by Man (Y)"

"Bunch members cast curses that matched the physical evidence at Potter, who somehow evaded them and portkeyed himself and Cedric back to Hogwarts."

Rufus continued, "And what is even less certain?"

"Man (X) appeared to have used a ritual to turn a homunculus into Man(Y) Stated ingredients include bone of the father, flesh of a willing servant and blood of an enemy."

"The ritual took place at Tom Riddle's gravesite."

"Crabbe and Goyle appeared to have been there, but were not named."

"OK," concluded Rufus. "Now is there anything that is classed under speculation?"

"Something strange occurred when Potter and (Y) crossed spells."

"Person (X) AKA Wormtail, greatly resembled Peter Pettigrew."

Rufus thought for a moment and added, "Finally under actions?"

"Convicted Death Eaters' marks should be examined. If they are solid black, some of The Bunch should be checked."

"A small sample of The Bunch should be brought in for questioning on something unrelated. Ideally they could get some Veritaserum legally pumped into them."

"Search for man (X)"

"Premature to speculate about actual identities of Man (X) or (Y)'s identities."

"Meet with Fudge. No one is charged at this time, so he has limited options to block."

Connie agreed, "That's the way to present it. Stop short of making any conclusions as to who (X) and (Y) were. That someone discovered a way of reanimating the Dark Mark will be impossible to dispute. That they used the Mark to recall the 'Former' DEs and they willingly arrived and attacked Potter will be hard to refute."

Anna finally spoke up and suggested, "I think the best way would be to present your findings would be in a conference room like this; not Minister Fudge's office. You'd have neutral ground. Further, if I were you, I'd keep Director Bones and that awful Undersecretary Umbridge from the meeting – the same with Professor Dumbledore, who has a remarkable knack for inviting himself to meetings. Director Bones is in a less-than-neutral situation with Harry Potter, and I've seen Umbridge badly disrupt meetings before."

Connie appreciated how very difficult that it was for Anna to speak up like that and acknowledged that those were excellent ideas and thanked her colleague.

Rufus added, "One last subject – regardless of Croaker's findings, Potter's detractors will state that he is an attention seeking liar."

Connie replied, "Attention finds him with remarkable frequency, but I doubt that he actively seeks it out. He didn't seek attention as an infant and there was witnessed testimony that Barty Crouch entered him into the tournament with the intent of getting him into the graveyard, Skip the _for who_ part. I'm choosing my words carefully here, but Harry lacks the means, the motive or the opportunity to manufacture such a memory. Yes, I believe him."

Rufus replied, "So do I, and I'd state that to anyone. Thank you both for your help. Is it all right if I keep these copies?"

Connie replied, "Be my guest. We have a dozen sets of copies."

… - …

Severus Snape had an unpleasant childhood. Tobias Snape married Eileen Prince because he'd gotten the seventeen-year-old girl pregnant. Had it not been for that, the twenty-something lorry driver would have moved on to the next teen that he could chat up.

That said, his resentment of the plain looking girl grew exponentially when she revealed that she was a magical. Tobias was frequently gone for a day or two at a time while he drove up and down the isle, frequently leaving Eileen without enough money to care for her son.

Fortunately, she had a rare skill – transforming inexpensive plants and herbs into completed potions for a healthy profit and squirreling the excess money away. It was a practice that she instilled in young Severus before his father was arrested for murdering her just after his third year.

Left on his own, young Severus worked hard, lived frugally and made a lifelong habit of living below his means. Working the last ten years at Hogwarts had allowed him to accumulate a respectable nest egg.

Now he was faced with the certainty that two very powerful men each claimed him as his master. His father had certainly been an unpleasant man, but he taught Severus a lesson that was appropriate in this situation – _standing on one side of a picket fence is OK, standing on the other side is OK, but sitting in the middle is usually painful._

If he aligned with Dumbledore, stayed in the castle _and_ if Dumbledore won the war, he would be OK. The old man would act disappointed if he gave up his spy duties, but would eventually get over it.

Likewise, if he quietly left the castle and went to the Dark Lord, explaining that Dumbledore's legilimency was too much for him, he could get by with making potions for his master, staying out of sight and do reasonably well,_ if_ the Dark Lord prevailed.

If he attempted to run and the Dark Lord's net grew wide enough, he would be caught and killed. If he removed his left arm, he would be harder to catch, but still vulnerable.

If he kept on serving as a double agent, one side or the other (either Bella or Black) would eventually kill him, depending on what information he gave up or withheld.

The attractive options in his life had left him when, in a fit of utter stupidity, he called his best friend in the world _Mudblood_. It turned out to be a life-changing utterance – not for the better. He decided to straddle the fence until a defining moment came up.

… - …

While Snape was regretting his childhood, Harry was enjoying his. The four of them were watching a movie and Emma had made popcorn. There wasn't a day that went by when he wasn't grateful for having been adopted after second year.

He'd never understand why Professor Dumbledore thought that he had to go there. It had been horrible on the better days.

… - …

"How goes your search, Peter?"

Putting the best spin on a day of methodical searching, with no results, Pettigrew replied, "I found forty-six leads, Master and have fifteen to look into tomorrow. I'll find them."

As Riddle half-enjoyed watching Lucius squirm and come up with outlandish threats, he was in no personal hurry and accepted Wormtail's answer without penalty. It was obvious that the rat-man had put thought and effort into the search and Riddle could find no fault with his methodology. He replied, "Good. Keep me advised of your progress. You may go."

… - …

Wednesday 7 July

Peter, _the technologist_ was in a panic. He had visited all of the homes on the list that he'd obtained in London. The last address had been an address in West Surrey, with a family with three boys. He found a pub in the area that served a hearty plowman's lunch. As he was finishing the last of the cheese, he spotted another telephone book.

It was different than the one that he'd seen in Piccadilly. It had yellowish pages that listed different businesses. He searched and didn't find a listing for healers. He searched through the listing of doctors and didn't see a likely listing.

He stepped outside to apparate behind the pub.

… - …

Hedwig enjoyed that her master was writing to the young female on a regular basis. She loved to fly and there was never a real urgency that would force her to strain herself. Better still, the young female and her elder always rewarded her with real treats – bugs, crickets or the occasional worm.

She continued her flight.

… - …

"Gotch ya."

… - …

ooo ccc ooo

"The boys eyed our wet linens when I was their age, Mr. Crow. Though, given that we always wore black, I'm not sure to what end. I'll expect you to report proper behavior in the future. You appear to be on a path of marginalizing Molly. She's… well that is to say… that simply won't stand." The old scribe surreptitiously shook the flask containing his namesake beverage and walked off. There would be plenty of time for a little at the Red Onion. He was astounded and grateful that so many people had commented on his first report. He may have had a cocktail or two to celebrate; he couldn't recall.

McGonagall stared at the slip of paper that the foul smelling scribe had dropped when he left his report. Daphne's Surprise – 7241534. A frown creased her face. Surely he hadn't set his nose in _that_ direction.

Ignoring Ms. Greengrass, she rubbed her brow in worry. His reports were typically loaded with death and mayhem. The calm couldn't last.

… - …


	3. The VHS Tape

**Chapter 3 – The VHS Tape**

Wednesday 7 July

When evening came, the Dark Lord summoned Lucius. Rubbing a bit of salt in the wound, Tom had a large decanter of single-malt on the table. It turned out that the liquor barrels and wine cellars were in the north wing of the estate and Lucius had hesitated to call his elf to visit them. Riddle had no acquired taste for the distilled liquor, but knew that his blond servant craved it. As such, he offered Lucius a glass that matched the two-finger portion that he'd poured for himself. "Here."

Lucius finished his within a minute and was reaching for a refill when Riddle _accidently_ spilled the decanter. Malfoy's eyes showed a momentary flash of outrage until he recalled that he was hosting the deadliest man that he'd ever met. He took a calming breath and Riddle poured him the last two ounces that were in the decanter.

Riddle considered that it might be to his advantage to simply end the Malfoy line someday – after he managed to acquire most of the wealth that the snobbish aristocrat possessed. Riddle had no real interest in women, so Narcissa was of no use to him. The brat was worse than worthless. Lucius' sole value lay in his stores of gold and his seemingly inextinguishable access to the respectable side of wizarding society.

He put those thoughts away for another day and casually mentioned, "Peter has completed his task. He has found the Grangers' place of business. Do not call on him for additional assistance with your little grudge. He's done his part." He let the news hang in the air for a minute to see how Malfoy would react.

Riddle let the deafening silence hang in the air and Lucius began to squirm as the seconds ticked by. After nearly a minute, the Dark Lord asked, "Was your son sufficiently punished for his foolishness?"

Lucius had a moment of indecision. If he answered yes, his Master would likely demand details. If he answered no, both he and his son would likely spend the night being tortured, with Narcissa being forced to watch. In truth, Draco had sufficiently twisted the original facts to imply that ninety percent of the problem had been with Flint's son, when, in fact, he had shot his mouth off to the guards, again. Then Narcissa got involved and automatically took her son's side. Finally, he replied, "Yes, but he has been slow to give up some of his childish ways. I had hoped that he would have matured more during the last school year, but the old fool set no limits."

Riddle replied, "Enough diplomacy. If that's what you enjoy, get yourself appointed to the soon to be available position of representative to the ICW. Amongst ourselves, you and I agreed to say what we believed. Here's the information that Peter provided." He handed Lucius an envelope from Pettigrew containing a map and the telephone book listing for the Granger and Granger dental clinic.

"Thank you, my –"

Riddle hissed, "If you're simply going to burn down a building, you can do it at night. If you're expecting the Grangers to be there, do it during the day between the hours listed; most likely at half five. Plan that there will be many people around. Do not attract undue attention. Wormtail stated that this Buckswood Drive was one that many of the muggle cars traveled on. The Granger…" He paused, searching for the word, "clinic is on the west end of the building. Lucius, do not engage everyone that happens to be there. Simply destroying the business and getting everyone back here would be a success in my eyes, and you would have made your point. Peter told me that there are woods nearby that may be useful in serving as a staging point. Again, this is _your_ outing, so do not unjustly coerce anyone into joining you. You can bring your son and Flint's son if you wish. It might be best if you did."

He paused and very slowly finished his drink before he added, "Know this, Lucius, if they needlessly draw attention to us again, I will end them. Are we clear?"

Lucius nodded, "Perfectly, my Lord. Thank you for your generosity."

Riddle had already turned to the next item on his ever expanding list; he said absently, "By Saturday morning, I want this resolved and behind us. We have many other things to do. Make your plans, brief me and I'll call the Death Eaters tomorrow after breakfast. Have your elf get you your whiskey; your hands are shaking without it."

Lucius said quickly, "Thank you for this opportunity. I'll take my leave," and scurried out before the Dark Lord could change his mind.

… - …

Fudge was quite pleased with himself. By studying the rules carefully, he found that he could remove Dumbledore from the ICW representative position with just the stroke of his quill. Effectively, the old wizard served at the pleasure of the Minister and had held the position since before Bagnold had held the office. Lucius had recently mentioned an interest should the position ever become available. It would be an inexpensive way to pay his supporter back.

The Chief Warlock position of the Wizengamot was another long-grandfathered position. Like Fudge's own position, it could be removed by a two-thirds majority call of no-confidence. He would have to carefully consider if he could muster the votes, as a failed vote would almost guarantee that Dumbledore would in turn call such a vote against him. Fudge believed his chance for success would hinge on presenting a widely acceptable suggested replacement.

The Headmaster role could be removed by a similar two-thirds majority vote of the twelve seat board of Governors. Since Lucius' ignoble departure from the board two years ago, Fudge was certain that he couldn't muster a majority, let alone eight votes. He could, however, force an instructor appointment in the event that Dumbledore still had a vacancy at noon on 31 August.

… - …

Amelia Bones arrived at the Granger residence Thursday at noon. She looked around and smiled, then knocked on the door. Emma answered, saw the older woman and smiled in her greeting. "Good morning, Amelia. I hope this wasn't too much trouble. The teens mentioned that they were going to spend the afternoon with you and Susan. I just sort of invited myself along."

The gray haired woman smiled back and replied, "It's not a bother. I don't get many callers who I actually enjoy. Too many are either politicians, or those that want me to influence a case one way or another. I enjoy your company too. Law enforcement people never have enough friends, only colleagues." Glancing outside she asked, "What are you having done?"

Emma gave a little laugh at the absolute absurdity of her answer. "We're having intent based wards installed - well actually Harry is. He bought the house from Dan on Tuesday. The goblin warders are just finishing up." Emma shook her head in disbelief at her own statement. "When I was Harry's age, I wanted a new stereo, err, record player and copies of the latest songs. He's out buying properties and taking care of us."

Amelia gave a little laugh in agreement and took a careful look out the front window. She happened to notice the letterbox and asked, "Olifson?"

Emma responded, "That's a good one. Let's collect the teens, try out your portkey and I'll tell you the tale over a cuppa."

After lunch, the teens went to the game room, leaving Emma and Amelia free to talk. Amelia was laughing – envisioning a confused Death Eater walking away in disappointment, thinking they had come to the wrong house.

… - …

Harry, Hermione and Susan were playing billiards, which was a new game for him. They took turns playing eight ball. Currently, Hermione (who was surprisingly good) and Susan were playing while Harry sat on one of the oak bar stools watching them play.

It was a hot day, so all three of the teens were wearing shorts and tee shirts. Susan had changed into just a crop top one with the bottom cut off and her yellow shorts after lunch. Harry had acquired a new appreciation for motion and gravity as Susan, who was in front of him, stretched over the table attempting to line up her shot. She seemed to take forever; leaning this way or that, moving her cue back and forth. Harry could see an eyeful; several in fact. He seemed to be completely mesmerized.

Hermione stood off to the side, and bit her lip to keep from laughing at Susan's carefully considered pose. She normally wouldn't approve at Harry perving on a girl, but Susan liked him and knew exactly what she was doing. The strawberry blond wiggled her bum a bit as she finally took the shot; only to miss. Hermione handed her cue to him and innocently inquired, "What's the matter, Harry? You look a bit distracted."

Harry said quickly, "I'm fine. I was, um, I was just watching, I mean I was just thinking about something."

"Boobs or bum?" asked Hermione.

The two witches each leaned over and gave him a kiss in the cheek and had a very good laugh at the flustered lad's expense. Susan smiled at them both, her eyes lingering as she met Harry's gaze. In hew quiet voice, she said, "Thanks for coming over today. I don't get much company on holiday; mostly Auntie's friend Connie or Mr. Croaker. Auntie likes visiting with your mum too."

Hermione replied, "We like visiting with you both too." As it was getting to be time to go she added, "Please thank Smidgen again for lunch. Can you come over again next Thursday? Maybe we can go swimming again."

Susan looked at Hermione, who winked in return and then at Harry, who really had come to enjoy her company. She replied, "I'd like that, very much. Auntie will probably be busy, but Smidgen can take me."

"Thanks again."

… - …

Lucius recalled the conversation that he'd had regarding the Grangers. The Dark Lord's instruction was uncharacteristically vague, as if he had no real interest in the subject.

Lucius decided on the seemingly safer of the options – a quick torching of the building.

From Wormtale's notes, he assumed it was a two story building, probably like the ones at Hogsmeade with the thatched roofs.

As he had zero confidence in Draco's ability to apparate with any finesse, he decided to accept the invariable ribbing that he would get from his friend, Wolfred Nott and side-along his son. It certainly was better than a panic filled splinch in the event that anything went wrong.

He'd heard from Nott and Flint, after they'd had a few, how frequently Draco uttered his all but empty, _When my father hears this_ threats. He'd seldom stepped in and interfered in Draco's little squabbles, but it apparently had worked well enough against the uninformed or younger students, that he'd made a bad habit of it.

In spite of the bother of being banned from the bank for a month, Lucius was glad in a way that the goblin had shut Draco's blathering down. He only hoped that his prideful son had learned that he wasn't always the strongest kid on the street.

Yet he had a nagging suspicion that going against the Grangers would swell Draco's already enlarged ego and simply harden the resolve of the muggle-born witch to the point that she would grow to become a formidable enemy. He should have ignored Narcissa and caned the brat instead.

More bothersome, Snape had disappeared, claiming that he was on a long-term task from the Dark Lord and that he shouldn't be bothered for the next month. That would leave him to tap Parkinson, Nott, Avery, Crabbe, Goyle, Flint and the two boys. He'd have rather used the crew that they had for the Quidditch match, but Macnair worked and Jugson was away, on holiday.

They'd apparate to the nearby woods, silently make their way to the building, fire off a few quick curses, apparate back to Knockturn to throw off any investigators, then apparate back home in time for dinner. It seemed like a good plan. He went to the fireplace to make his calls.

… - …

Albus enjoyed discussing topics with the headmaster portraits. Depending on the skill of the artisan who painted and bespelled them, they possessed varying degrees of conversational skill and recall. Better still, they invariably forgot the conversations within a few hours; all but guaranteeing confidentiality.

This particular day, he called on his old boss, Armando Dippet, who'd held the position through both world wars; finally retiring in 1946. He'd passed away shortly after. "Headmaster Dippet, can we converse for a while?"

Delighted at the attention, Dippet's portrait replied, "Professor Dumbledore, how may I help?"

Slipping into a subservient role with the arrogant painting, Dumbledore politely inquired, "Headmaster, what do you recall about Tom Riddle?"

"Professor, when I met him as a first year, I had doubts about his character. As he grew, those doubts certainly were proven wrong. Head Boy and a Special Services Award… doubly impressive, given his upbringing, I'd say Whatever became of him? I always thought he would become Minister of Magic one day."

"Armando, when you retired in the summer of 1946, Tom was working at Borgin and Burkes. Do you recall your studies on Horcruxes?"

Dippet's portrait stroked its chin. "Yes. A fascinating subject on a theoretical basis, if you put aside the murders involved in their creation. I acquired a few of the better tomes on the subject. Quite fascinating."

"Headmaster, some wizards theorized that the strength of a spirit of a disembodied wizard, especially multiple Horcruxes would in some way be based on the relative strength of the remaining anchors. What are your thoughts?" Dumbledore pressed on.

The portrait replied, "Goodness, Professor, that's a sticky question. Not thinking of trying it yourself, I hope? Regardless of the treatise by Jaykay, I believe that there may be something to it. Let's say that a disembodied spirit retained, for sake of discussion, ten percent of their original _Will_ – the ability to forcibly influence others. If the anchor were in two pieces and the first one was destroyed, I would expect that the level of exertable Will would be reduced. Whether you believe in the equal part theory or the halving splits theories would, I suppose, determine the percentage of loss. It's all hypothetical of course, as the sample size available for study is near zero. You could make the same case either way regarding the abilities or stamina of a reanimated wizard, or a Horcrux maker who has lost a part of their anchor, or even subsequent possessions. Again, there simply is no statistically significant sample available to study. Throughout history, Horcrux makers rarely advertised their achievements."

Slightly sickened by witnessing a previously unseen facet of a man that he'd worked with for several decades, Dumbledore asked, "Headmaster, what else do you recall about Tom?"

"As an older student, he displayed definite pride in his newly discovered heritage. He claimed direct lineage of Salazar himself through the Gaunt line. In the start of what would have been his sixth year, he wore his grandfather's old ring with pride; that old gold one with the black stone. It must have been good for the boy to reconnect with his grandfather after growing up in that orphanage. What line of work did you say that he ended up in again, retail? I always thought he be Minister one day."

"Thank you, Headmaster. You've been very helpful." He didn't entirely agree with Dippet's conclusion, but was willing to hear him out. He frequently found that hearing faulty conclusions like Dippet's invariably reinforced his own beliefs.

He popped another sherbet lemon into his mouth.

… - …

As they were having breakfast, Emma declared, "Dan, the more I think about it, the more I'm in favor of reincorporating the business and relocating into that new strip mall on Crawley Avenue. We should go talk with Sneerwell on Saturday. We can probably be moved in a few weeks."

"Clearly, it wouldn't be free. Harry must have paid closing costs on the house."

Emma agreed, "True, but I think we have enough cash in the business operating account for attorney's fees and the mover; even if the rent is higher at the new place. Business insurance would be the same, and Grace and Pam might get more cleaning work due to better visibility of the practice."

Dan remarked, "We can always use a few new patients ourselves."

Emma sighed and commented, "Don't let our son's inherited circumstances bother you. There's no yardstick, my love. "What about the employees? We'd be down a month at least for refit?"

Dan replied, "We'll finalize it Saturday. I want to be fair to everybody, but we can't bankrupt ourselves. Ami could help with getting the office back together."

"We could offer them two weeks paid vacation and four weeks unpaid vacation. If they wanted to file redundancy instead, that's up to them, but I think our offer would be best."

"We'll see what Sneerwell says."

"OK. Let's go to work."

… - …

Friday 9 July

On Friday morning, Rufus looked at his watch one more time and positioned himself in the hallway as though he was casually reading the latest _Prophet._ On schedule, Fudge walked by with his own copy and a stack of envelopes in his hand. He saw Scrimgeour and greeted him, "Good morning, Rufus. Are we still scheduled for tomorrow afternoon?"

Rufus played his hand. He leaned in, and in a conspiratorial whisper replied, "Sounds good, Minister. How about if it's just you and me? We can get to the bottom of this, find some common ground and move on. OK?"

Fudge responded with the hoped for misinterpretation. He smiled and replied, "Sounds perfect – three o'clock then."

… - …

Dumbledore recalled Dippet's words as he returned his pensieve to its cabinet and closed the door; _an old gold ring with a black stone_ indeed.

Bob Ogden's memory of visiting Gaunt's shack now felt like it completed the puzzle. Tom must have discovered the shack, Imperioused Morfin to kill Marvolo and stole Marvolo's ring. All that as a finishing fifth year. Five decades later, the thought still distressed Dumbledore.

His phoenix looked on as the long haired professor lamented, "So many things come back to Little Hangleton, Fawkes – Tom catching Merope's eye, the love potion, abuse by Marvolo, the shack, the ring and locket… That's it! The shack! He must have hid the ring in the shack."

Fawkes trilled in apparent agreement. In truth, he was more interested in flying out to the lake and catching a juicy fish, but didn't want to appear rude.

Dumbledore turned to the firebird and said, "No, I don't think I'll call on anyone else to go along. Now that I've solved the puzzle, collecting the prize should be the easy part."

Another trill. This one sounding more urgent.

"You're right. I should bring a cursebreaker's bag. Good idea. I think I'll go eat lunch now and see how Severus is doing. Thank you, old friend."

Fawkes burst into song and disappeared in a flash of flame. Dumbledore was quickly off to lunch, and thus missed seeing the bird execute a fiery Wronski Feint toward the surface of the lake.

… - …

Dan and Emma had long found that the most effective means of being in the dental business, rather than the accounts receivables business, was Visa. They simply paid the two and a quarter percent merchant fee and the next day their money was in the bank. The patients paid by Visa, Ami in the office filled out the paperwork and the client usually received their check by the time that their credit card bill was due. There were no receivables for Granger & Granger and the patients earned their air miles – everyone was happy.

It wasn't that they were Anti-NHS; rather that they'd heard many grumblings from their dentist colleagues that, especially for the band-one level of services such as cleanings, scalings etc. that by the time they paid the hygienist, factored in the cost of the rebill, rent, equipment, business insurance and the like – they as business owners made nothing. As such, they were happy with their business model.

The morning went by fairly quickly. Ami, their gem of an office girl had ordered pizza for the little company of six. Both Grangers thought that she was a great find – warm, bubbling personality, quick to respond with patient calls. At twenty four, she had much to look forward to. Grace and Pam were very competent hygienists, while Jack was an adequate dental assistant, though a bit hot-headed.

Of all the employees, Emma enjoyed listening to Ami tell her adventures. "We're going to the game tonight. Crawleytown is playing Fleetwood."

Pam replied, "Better than watching Selsey, I suppose. They always lose."

Grace added, "True, but their goalie is a fit bloke – wouldn't mind meeting him, I'll tell you."

Emma smirked, "You'll be comparing probes next. Let's get back to work and finish the afternoon."

… - …

Seven Death Eaters, a mean-drunk-in-training, and a spoiled brat apparated to the forest by Buckswood Drive and began walking along the roadside towards the dental office, in full Death Eater regalia. More than a few cars passed by them, believing that the nine wizards were, in fact, part of some sort of Star Wars reenactment and cheerily beeped their horns or waved as they went by. One young woman even stopped and snapped a few quick photos to show her older sister.

Lucius ignored the not-so-silent grumble that they should have apparated closer. In reality, they couldn't, as the senior Malfoy and Flint had to adjust their sons' masks and didn't want to have to do that at the dental office parking lot.

… - …

Dumbledore admitted to himself that hindsight was 20-20. He'd never taken the time to visit the graveyard where Cedric had been murdered. As such, he had someplace that he wanted to go and no way of apparating there without coordinates. He walked down to see Irma Pince.

Perhaps she could loan him a good atlas.

… - …

The second that they walked out of the woods, Lucius was reminded of the axiom regarding the word _assume_. He should have spent yesterday reconnoitering the brick and glass building and layout. Busy didn't fully describe the roadway at that time of day. There was an endless line of people going by in those infernal muggle machines. They reached the parking lot and he realized an entire series of misjudgments. The building was much larger than what he was expecting, there were people walking about outside the building and it was largely sided with brownstone with a flat roof that definitely wasn't thatched.

He grumbled. "West end… Wormtail is a bloody moron, did he mean southwest or northwest…?"

"Are we going to stand here, or are we going to do something?" Nott taunted him.

Lucius snipped, "Fine then. Form up in an L on that side and this side. Cast a _reducto_ followed by two _incendios_ each and we'll leave."

Draco drawled, "I wanted to rape the mudblood's mum and flay the skin off of her while her husband helplessly watched."

"We'll do it as we agreed. Now form up on my right." He just hoped that his son never met up with Narcissa's twisted sister, Bella. She'd probably teach him the skills to actually achieve his excessively disturbing ideas. Parkinson vowed to himself never to get his daughter involved with the twisted teen.

They started to form up, but had to accommodate a large van that was backing up and ended bunching up on the long end of the building.

"Excuse me, can I get a picture for my nephew?"

A jet of green light from Avery's wand silenced her and she slumped to the ground behind him. Avery muttered, "She shouldn't have startled me."

Shaking his head at the growing clusterfuk, Lucius commanded, "Now."

In a series of flashes, there were shattered windows, screams and jets of flame shooting through the windows igniting the interior. Crabbe and Goyle were apparently attempting to ignite the bricks themselves. Nott yelled, "It's a brick building, you ignorant bastards. Blow the glass windows up first, then fire _inflambre_."

… - …

While it may have been poorly executed outside, inside the results were horrific. Grace and Pam were in one of the surgery rooms chatting, and were horrifically cut up from the shattered glass from Parkinson's hex. Moments later, both of the beautiful women were on the floor, bleeding out in the blazing room.

… - …

Dan and Jack the assistant had walked out the door to the back lot and were both just getting into their hot cars. Jack noticed a bunch of Darth Vader wannabes setting the building on fire and blowing up the windows. They must have been tossing firebombs, as there was smoke and flames pouring out of the windows of their business. He put the Land Rover in gear, stepped on the accelerator and launched a one tonne mechanical bowling ball at the group who were bunched together, admiring their work.

Meanwhile Dan dashed out of his BMW, and ran as fast as he could back into the burning building.

… - …

Completely insatiated from his lack of torture opportunities, Draco kept casting _reducto_ hexes through the broken windows. The ten seconds that they were supposed to have taken was now reaching the thirty-second mark. Lucius, yelled, "Draco. Be done. Now."

The frustrated teen saw movement through one of the windows and cast a last _reducto_ hex, which, unfortunately, hit the high-pressure nitrous oxide tanks which the Grangers used in their business.

**BOOM!**

… - …

Inside the burning clinic, Emma and her desk took the brunt of the blast from the exploding tank. She was slammed backwards. Outside, Draco was knocked to the ground and his wand arm was nearly severed from the flying glass.

Ami pulled her unconscious boss with a badly bleeding head out of the burning room, ignoring the flames that were licking at her arms and legs.

… - …

Jack's Land Rover hit Buster Goyle square-on, knocking him over the bonnet and eventually off of the top of the big sport utility vehicle. Lucius was hit with a glancing blow which knocked him down, shattering his hip and femur. Conrad Parkinson cast a green jet through the open window and the now-driverless car slammed into a large oak tree.

Nott grabbed hold of Lucius, who was screaming in pain, and yelled, "Leave now!"

Seconds later, the Death Eaters disapparated away, bringing one soon-to-be-dead and two badly wounded fellows with them.

… - …

Dan raced back into the now fully engulfed clinic, pulled the double doors open into the waiting area and saw his own personal view of hell. The operating suites were ablaze, and little Ami was bravely pulling Emma out of the wreckage. Ami shouted, "She's alive; check on Pam and Grace."

The smoke wasn't horrible due to all of the open windows, but the surgical suites were ablaze. The first one was empty and Dan found both women in the second, amongst a sickenly large pool of blood. Pam's head was at an odd angle, with large pieces of glass in her neck. She was clearly gone and her clothes were smoldering. Grace appeared to be alive, as she was clearly bleeding in multiple wounds to her back. Dan picked her up in a fireman's lift and made his way to the back entrance, where Ami had pulled Emma.

Dan dashed back into the building one last time to get the large first aid bag which was under Ami's desk. When he returned, Ami had removed Grace's scrub top and was futilely attempting to apply direct pressure to the two largest wounds. The bleeding wasn't coming out nearly as hard as it had when Dan first found her.

He carefully wrapped bandage gauze around Emma's head. She was bleeding from the mouth, nose and ears.

Ami asked, "Where's Jack?"

… - …

Dan ran as fast as he could through the building to the front and looked around. The fire alarm and sprinkler had finally turned on. Off to the left end of the parking lot, he saw Jack's SUV, apparently having been driven into a large oak tree. A woman was dead in the parking lot, having fallen face forward onto the asphalt.

As he trotted to Jack's SUV, he came across a broken walking stick with a silver snake head on the handgrip. He picked up the pieces. When he reached the SUV, Jack's lifeless eyes told him what he needed to know. The vehicle obviously hadn't hit the tree very hard and the driver airbag had activated. Jack hadn't died from a car wreck.

Hearing the ambulance and police sirens approaching, he ran back into the building, to the maintenance closet and pulled the VHS tape from the closed circuit monitoring system, replaced it with a new tape and turned it on again. He took the tape and the cane and locked them in the boot of his car.

The parking lot was starting to fill up now. One brave man had gone through the dental office and pulled Pam's body out. Dan stood back as the four medics attended to Grace and Emma, all the while alternating between doing their work and shouting at people to step back.

He stood at the side parking lot and saw that the police were interviewing two witnesses, surrounded by a score of gawkers. He clearly could hear the receptionist from the other side of the building state that, "It was weirdoes dressed up in Darth Vader getups that had firebombed the building. Where did they get off to now? They were here three minutes ago."

A cold rage fill his heart as he walked back to see Emma and Grace loaded into one of the ambulances. He turned to get in, but could see that with the two stretchers and the three medics inside, that there was simply no room. The driver rolled down the window and said, "I'm sorry that there's not more room. We're headed to Crawley Hospital on West Green. Do you know the women's names?

Dan replied, "The woman with the head trauma is my wife, Emma Granger. The other woman is Grace Smith, who works for us. I'll drive behind you."

… - …

Two hours later, Dan, Hermione, Harry and Ami were still sitting in the ER Surgical waiting room. After a quick exam, the hospital staff had suggested that Ami borrow Dan's car to go pick up the teens and bring him back a change of clothing. She had forgotten to get one from Hermione, even though they were nearly the same size. As such, she was sitting next to Hermione, wearing a top splattered in her mum's blood. Dan was relieved and disappointed when Ben, his father-in-law came and sat down, rather than the surgeon.

About thirty-five years older than Dan, about Harry's size, and slightly frail looking, Ben asked the teens, "Any word on your mum yet?"

Hermione sat; white faced, nearly in shock, holding hands with Ami and Harry, who had a look of grim determination on his face.

Harry had no knowledge about the workings of a hospital. Madam Pomfrey had normally spent five to ten minutes fixing him and half an hour scolding him for his reckless behavior. A three-hour surgery was completely out of his scope of experience and he was scared witless that he was soon going to lose his second mum.

The older man exerted a quiet confidence. He maintained eye contact with the two teens as he held onto both of them equally and kept repeating, "She'll make it. Em will make it."

… - …

The editor of the _London Times_ was having a field day. Nine men dressed up in bad costumes turned out to be terrorists who firebombed a seeming random building, killing four people and seriously injuring several others. To top off what would normally be an unbelievable story, he'd just purchased rights to a fairly clear photo of the men taken just minutes before the attack.

What was confusing, aside from the men themselves and their sudden disappearance, were the witnesses. There were three witnesses who were inside on the other end of the building looking out who all described seeing the men firebomb their neighbor. Remarkably, two of the people who were interviewed and had been outside in the parking lot, now had no clear recollection of the attack. In contrast, several people passing by who were driving at the time had perfect recollection of the attack.

He directed, "Bottom front page, print the photos and the solid facts. We'll run the analysis and witness accounts Sunday."

ooo ccc ooo

Crow hoped that those who said he was a favorite would leave a short note saying Mike was the best. He certainly thought so. His friend deserved it

The old scribe had been reminded that he did not have the eyesight that he used to and that there had been a few blotches in his first reports. His friends Bill and Mike were older too and they had learned to forgive each other and ignore each other's shortcomings. Fortunately the grey wolf and the YoR master had better eyesight than him and many clever ideas.

Unfortunately, Professor McGonagall _was not_ in a forgiving mood. "Mr. Crow, first you reminded everyone that I wasn't as young as I used to be, let those people die, then you misplaced the headmaster. I haven't seen him in days now."

The old scribe thought to himself, _Better get used to the idea_, and was thinking of saying something, but dropped a business card on her desk before walking off.

"Further, you _will_ keep in mind that Miss Bones is not yet sixteen. This isn't 1275. You will remember that, Mr. Crow. Perhaps you should reread the Offenses Against the Person act."

Wondering if she'd been present for the signing and completely ignoring her blathering, Crow recalled that there was a rental shop available in Skagway and walked out the door. He had a smile on his face at the thought. A minute later, the familiar rumble had faded off into the distance.

Minerva didn't know what to do. The card read, _Have Chrome, Will Travel – 8975202. _She hoped her stock of brandy would be up to the task.

… - …


	4. Ben Olifson

.

**Chapter 4 – Ben Olifson**

Friday 9 July

Tom Avery brought Buster Goyle's body back to his family. He explained, "Buster and I were walking around muggle London after having a pint and he got run down by one of those muggle vehicles."

Greg looked at his dad's broken body laid out on the kitchen table. The hulking boy sat down and began to cry.

… - …

The group had been called into one of the surgical conference rooms. An hour later, Dr. Albert Krebbs, the surgeon walked in. He looked at Dan, who nodded and announced, "Dr. Granger, your wife sustained acute subdural hematoma; bleeding of the brain and a cracked skull as the result of the explosion. She also has second and third degree burns over five percent of her body. Finally, she had a fractured radius on her right arm.

Due to the bleeding in her brain and the significant swelling on her right side, she is in a coma. It is my sincere hope that as the left side heals; the swelling on the right side will subside, relieving the pressure and she'll eventually recover. For now, she is breathing with the aid of a ventilator."

Ami, who was still wearing the blood splattered clothes, asked the question that no one wanted to know. "What about Grace? Grace Smith?"

The surgeon replied, "Unfortunately, Miss Smith died on the way here. I am sorry for your losses, but want you to keep hope about Emma."

Dan asked, "What about a longer-term prognosis?"

Dr. Krebbs suggested, "Let's discuss this more in the morning. In the meanwhile, I suggest that you take your family home and get some rest. Come back in the morning after a late breakfast. Again, I'm sorry for your loss."

Hermione suggested, "Grandpa, why don't you come home with us? Please?"

Ben and Dan had never been close. There had never been a quarrel; Ben had always been a very private person after his wife had passed on. He glanced at Dan, who nodded and replied, "I'll follow you."

Dan asked Ami, "Do you need a ride home?"

She replied, "Could you give me a ride to the parking lot?"

He nodded and asked, "Ben, could Harry and Hermione ride along with you? I won't be long."

When they got back to the parking lot at Buckswood Drive, they were surprised to see that the police had already covered the windows with plywood and a ribbon of yellow plastic tape marked Police Line – Do Not Cross had encircled his side of the building as well as the front entrance.

As she was about to get out, Ami realized, "I don't have my purse. I left it …"

Dan immediately volunteered, "I'll drive you home. We can get it sorted out tomorrow."

An hour later, an exhausted Dan Granger drove into his driveway. It was no surprise that all of the lights were still on.

… - …

Saturday 10 July

Amelia was enraged as she heard the two Obliviators' explanation as they stood in front of her. "It's standard procedure, Director. You know that yourself. The spell monitors went off and we were on our way. We found those two birds yammering on to the coppers about men in strange garb and we flashed a badge, pulled 'em aside and took care of 'em."

"Had Connie or Anna interviewed them yet?"

"Dunno," replied, Archie. "We didn't see 'em."

"Archie Amslowe, you and Reginald having been doing this for over fifteen years. You destroyed the evidence in the Sirius Black investigation and now you two completely bungled this one up too. Not only did you obliviate the two best witnesses without even attempting to get a memory, there's a clear photo of nine Death Eaters in the morning addition of the _London Times_. I don't see how you could have made it worse if you'd tried."

Archie looked at her for a long moment before drawing his wand. "_Avada K…"_

"_Stupefy_." Amelia had drawn and cast before the Obliviator had even properly pointed his wand. She eyed Reginald and stated, "You will carefully place your wand on the table and collect Archie's, set it on the table and step back. Turn around with your hands on the wall."

She quickly cast a patronus to Rufus for backup. There would be time for a calming breath later. It had been years since she'd personally been attacked.

… - …

Ben walked down the stairs Saturday morning to get a cuppa. He was surprised to hear the teens already up. Harry said, "We should see if we can get Madam Pomfrey to look at mum."

Hermione agreed and quipped, "She fixes you up all the time." Seeing Ben, she smiled and greeted him, "Hi, Grandpa."

"Hi Hermione. Morning Harry. Who did you think should take a look at Emma?"

Harry replied, "Madam Pomfrey. She's the healer at school."

Hermione corrected him, "She's the specialist at our school."

Ben nodded and replied, "It never hurts to have options. Let's see what this Dr. Krebbs says when we go see him today. Don't give up hope, you two. She'll make it. So what are your plans for the day?"

Harry replied, "After we go visit Mum, Dan said that he had to spend time at the clinic, sorting that mess out."

Hermione seemed to have a moment of inspiration and in a coded wording asked, "I wonder if your handyman friend, Mr. Dobby could be available to help Dad. He must have a bunch of stuff that Mr. Dobby could do."

Harry noticed that a sad look seemed to flash on Grandpa Ben's face that seemed to be gone a moment later. Ben mentioned, "I'm going to sit outside for a few minutes and enjoy my cuppa. When Dan comes down, I'll take you all out for breakfast and we can stop and check up on your mum."

After he walked out, Harry asked, "What's with the strange wording?"

Hermione replied, "We never told him; the statute of secrecy…"

Harry cut in and asked, "What about family members?"

"Immediate family members living in your household. Didn't you… I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't think…" She went to hug him.

He hugged her back and replied, "No worries. I've got loads of family now, and you too." He winked at her and smiled."

Hermione smiled back. He had an amazing talent of pulling her out of a funk. She gave him a sly wink and remarked, "Maybe Susan will come over and hug you out of yours."

He put a devious look on his face and replied, "Maybe you both will. Let's go sit with Grandpa Ben. Dan's coming down."

… - …

After breakfast they went to the hospital, where Emma was in a room in the Intensive Care Unit. Nothing could have prepared Harry or Hermione for what the saw. Devoid of any meaningful television time, they hadn't seen the sorts of programs that occasionally featured coma patients on breathing assistance. Hermione broke down and hugged Harry, alternating between whimpering "Oh Lord," and "Oh Mum," while he looked over her shoulder at all of the equipment.

Meanwhile, Ben and Dan had gravitated to the end of the bed, each holding a foot; filling a desperate need to have some physical contact with the woman that they both loved more than life.

After what seemed like too few minutes, Dan announced that he had to go to the clinic. The police were there to let him into the office, collect the personal effects of Pam, Grace and Jack, and allow Ami to collect her purse. Additionally, he could take copies of any business or personal records that he might need.

… - …

Ben and the teens walked down to the first floor gift shop. Hermione noticed something, covered her mouth and whispered, "Harry, look."

There was a stack of the _Times_ on display with the photo that the passerby had taken minutes before the attack. Harry walked up to it, looked carefully and went back to Hermione.

Ben noticed the two whispering, but didn't say anything. It was a quiet car for the ride home. Once they were inside, he hugged them both and drove back to his home.

… - …

Sirius was glad that he'd allowed Dumbledore to talk him into hosting the Order meeting for the day. When Remus had shown him the newspaper earlier in the morning, he'd gone ballistic. Sirius had cut the article out without the photo on one of the copies to bring it up at the opportune moment.

The first floor of the old townhouse was much cleaner than the first week. Black had found several thousand galleons poorly hidden in the dining room, affording Remus enough funds to go to the Knockturn wandsmith and purchase a half-dozen used wands. They were sold at fifty galleons each, but Sirius found one that was a very good fit and the shopkeeper hadn't asked any question regarding their expected use.

Working wands in hand, Sirius and Remus worked like men possessed to clean up the horrid mess. One night, they gave the talking portrait of his mum a minute to either release the sticking charm or be blasted off of the wall. She called their bluff, Sirius carved around and through the painting; leaving a three by five foot hole in the plaster. The old house elf literally lost his head when he attacked Remus. An hour later, the wall was completely repaired.

Now the walls of all of the rooms on the first floor wore a fresh coat of white and a few select paintings were put back up. The floor had been stripped down to clean wood and would be refinished in the next day or so. He repaired a few pieces, vanished quite a few and one could appreciate the clean spaciousness of the home again.

Objectively, it wasn't much and it certainly wasn't finished, but when he had access to more of his funds, he would do more. He had a vision of what he wanted.

Minerva arrived first and greeted Remus, who answered the door, warmly. She quietly asked, "Is he in a better mood?"

Lupin immediately recognized that she hadn't seen the _Times_ and didn't know. He replied, "We'll see."

Soon Molly, Arthur and one of their adult children arrived. The unknown man introduced himself, "Hi, I'm Bill Weasley."

"Remus Lupin."

Bill replied, "I must have been five years behind you at Hogwarts. I remember seeing you and your crew in the common room. I have two younger brothers that have taken after you lot."

Remus replied, "I know Fred and George. I took a turn teaching Defense a few years ago. They're good people. I also know Ron, who is in Harry Potter's year as well as your sister." There was another knock on the door and Lupin added, "It was good to meet you. Please excuse me."

Hestia and Arabella arrived next. Both were on friendly terms with the gray haired werewolf.

Finally, Albus let himself in, along with three others – a scoundrel named Mundungus Fletcher and two others. Before Remus could introduce himself, Dumbledore suggested, "Perhaps we should start. We can save the introductions for a few minutes."

Sirius and Moody sat at one end of the kitchen table, with Lupin on his other side. The other end was vacant. Molly and Arthur sat next to the empty spot on one side and Minerva closest on the other side. Bill sat by Lupin and the others fill in the spots in the middle. Remus didn't know the others, but it seemed that Sirius did. He announced, "Good work, Dumbledore. You brought in a second-rate solicitor, a third-rate thief and a hooker into my house. Please to meet you, I'm Sirius Black. Where's Snivellus? I had something for him to look at."

Minerva and Moody looked quite amused, while Molly admonished, "Sirius Black, you will keep a civil tongue in your…"

Dumbledore wanted to avoid another abrupt eviction and announced, "It's time to begin. To answer one of your questions, Sirius, Severus had several potions that could not be disrupted at this time and is at Hogwarts. As you pointed out, I would like to introduce Dedalus Diggle, Mundungus Fletcher and Miss Emmeline Vance as the newest members of our group. To review any old business, Remus, did you make contact with anyone?"

"Zero interest," replied Lupin. "Let me rephrase that; with Undersecretary Umbridge proposing legislation that would make it even harder for my kind to earn an honest living, there was _less_ than zero interest."

"Minerva?"

"Oliver Wood might be interested, but hasn't committed."

"Alastor?"

"Archie Amslowe was arrested for attempted murder of Amelia Bones about an hour ago."

Albus looked sharply and inquired, "Is she all right?"

"Fine. She took him down herself."

Dumbledore nodded, looked around for a moment and commented, "Molly, the first floor looks…"

Sirius hissed, "She had nothing to do with it. Move along."

"Hestia?"

She replied, "Nothing."

Albus took a deep breath that sounded like a sigh and asked, "Any new business?"

Arabella replied, "There may have been a dementor attack on Privet Drive on Thursday."

Dumbledore replied, "Continue."

"Piers Polkis and Gordon Tucker were found, all but lifeless. The authorities think it was some sort of overdose, but I'm sure I felt them late Wednesday night."

Nobody else had anything, and it was apparent to Sirius and Remus that Dumbledore either didn't know, or wasn't going to say anything. As rehearsed, Remus calmly announced, "There was a report of an attack on the Granger place of business yesterday."

Minerva gasped, "Were they hurt?"

Sirius handed her the article without the photo and replied, "Hermione's mum, Emma is in the hospital. There were four other deaths that we know of. If I find out that your boy participated in this in any way, or knew and didn't say anything, I _will_ kill him on the spot."

Minerva had a puzzled look and asked, 'Who is Darth Vader?"

Dumbledore admonished, "Now Sirius, unfounded accusations will get us nowhere." He looked at the article for a moment and stated, "There's no mention of Death Eaters."

Sirius looked at Remus, who passed out several copies of the entire front page and replied, "I can make out Malfoy and his snot-nosed son. The guy on the other end looks like Conrad Parkinson. If the guy two over from him is Snivellus, he's a dead man, walking."

Dumbledore didn't immediately refute him, so Black added, "I'm sure he didn't mention _anything_ about this to you, did he. You're a fool. By the way, thanks for the wand that you didn't send me. You're _worthless_."

Dumbledore examined the photo further and still couldn't directly refute the angry man.

Diggle looked at the photo again and commented, "Interesting. Buster Goyle was reported to have died last night. His wife stated that he had been out walking and was hit by a truck of some sort in central London."

Dumbledore tried to make the best of a very weak hand that was rapidly growing worse, and called, "Alastor, if you could, check into it this week. Our next meeting will be on Saturday. That's all."

Even a perpetual supporter like Minerva was surprised at his behavior. He seemed distracted by something. On the way out, she asked, "Albus, is everything all right?"

He replied, "Yes. If you'll excuse me, I have an appointment to pick something up." That said; he walked out the door.

There were two groups left at the meeting – those who knew about the events following the Tri-Wizard Tournament and where Harry lived and those that didn't.

… - …

Hedwig loved the feel of the wind under her wings. The female that her Harry was spending time with had given her a juicy worm to enjoy. She always had something good. Hopefully her Harry would send her something back and she'd get a frog.

Summertime was good.

… - …

"And in short, revenue in on plan."

Thank you, Basil," remarked Fudge as the various Department Heads went through their respective twice monthly reports. Next."

"The Goblins have refused to pay on the Tri-Wizard Tournament gaming action, of which the Ministry receives one percent."

"Why?" asked Fudge.

Ludo explained, "They're claiming that the tournament was rigged and there were, in fact, two winners, leading to a wagering disqualification."

"So what happens?"

"They'll give everyone their money back, excluding their one percent fee for any wager placed related to the either third task, or overall winner. They're also claiming that since Cedric Diggory was killed after the tournament, that the tournament deaths wager outcome is zero."

A red-faced Fudge apologized, "Amos, I'm certain that Ludo hadn't noticed that you'd just stepped in. I apologize. Michelle? Anything from Magical Transportation?"

"Actually yes. Two Dementors were transported from Azkaban to Surry on Wednesday."

Amelia caught Dolores' look of concern. Previously, Bones had been reviewing her notes and was sure she saw a glimpse of a spell flash. She asked, "Who authorized the move?"

Michelle squinted for a moment and replied, "I don't remember. The information is on my copy of the… it's blank. I'll get a copy from the master document and let you know."

Amelia commented, "Strange that they should be out. Two muggles were found kissed by Privet Drive Wednesday night. That's the street where Harry Potter used to live."

Fudge didn't need this today. He rubbed his forehead and called, "Next report."

Percy looked at his copy of the agenda and announced, "Professor Dumbledore's not here. He was supposed to give an update on the ICW."

"Fine, Percy. Mark him absent."

"That would be unexcused absence," corrected Umbridge.

"Fine; unexcused then. Amelia?"

"Four people were murdered last night."

Fudge replied, "I hadn't heard about this. What happened?"

"There was a fire at a dental clinic. Two people died from windows exploding inwards, the other two from the killing curse."

Dolores made herself known, with her highly annoying habit. She observed, "Perhaps I didn't hear you; there was no mention that the victims were witches or wizards. Why do we care?"

"Perhaps because one of the attacked was Harry Potter's adopted mother, or perhaps just under a million people have seen this, or perhaps because when some of the hundred police or so assigned to investigate this, go interview the Grangers, Harry will almost certainly identify most of those pictured here." She passed around a dozen copies of the front page of the _Times_."

"Preposterous."

"Really? Perhaps _you_ would care to give your opinion to the muggle authorities, or the muggle news media? As I said, they have a large number of officers looking for those men - more than our entire auror force - all assigned to this one case. Do you _really_ want to start a war with the military? By the way, a few look quite familiar to me as well."

Fudge resigned himself to a liquid lunch. He asked, "Anything else?"

Amelia casually replied, "Actually, yes. Archie Amslowe was arrested this morning on charges of attempted murder. He's being interviewed right now."

"Thank you. Is that everything?"

"That can do for now."

… - …

"Lucius, my slippery friend; I am disappointed. I'm disappointed to hear of your injury. Was it this leg?" He pressed slightly harder than necessary and Lucius tried to hide a wince.

"I am especially disappointed to hear of your son's continued disobedience. You know the value that I place on following instructions, do you not?"

"Of course, my Lord."

"There was a cost, was there not? Did Buster Goyle warm his wife's bed last night?"

"No my Lord, the muggle struck both of…"

"Are you going to tell me that your little training exercise fell apart, a good man is no longer able to serve me, and a million people have seen your picture in a newspaper because you were outwitted by a _muggle?_ For surely, if that is the case, I should go out and recruit some _muggles_."

"No, my Lord. No. Surely you don't mean…?"

"We agreed to avoid doublespeak and weasel-worded answers with each other, did we not?"

"Of course, you are correct."

"So tell me, Lucius, take a minute to think of your answer. Answer correctly and I will let you live. I'll even go get you some of the whiskey that you crave so much while you think about it. Tell me, what caused the training exercise to go wrong?"

A few minutes later, the Dark Lord walked back into Malfoy's room with a tray with two glasses on them; each half filled with single malt. He saw Malfoy reach for one of the glasses and hesitate. "Go ahead, Lucius, they both are for you. Did you believe that they were tampered with in some way? Take them or leave them. The choice is yours. I was merely trying to perform a service for you."

Lucius reached for his glass, hesitated for just a moment and drank half of the amber liquid, enjoying the slow burn on his throat. He set the glass down.

Riddle continued, "Now then, tell me why the training session failed."

"First," admitted Lucius, "I failed to go look at the area myself. It was longer from the woods to the building than I'd planned. The best place to have apparated would have been just off the back corner of the hard surface."

"Go on."

"As a result of being so far away, I chose to walk along the roadway. Surely we were seen."

"Go on."

"Our garb, while perfectly appropriate for nighttime, stood out excessively during the day."

Riddle pondered his answer for both pros and cons for a moment and said, "Continue."

"I had expected the building to have a thatch roof, which would be easy to ignite. It was brick and glass."

Riddle said nothing and Lucius added, "I would have known that if I had seen the building beforehand."

"Continue."

"Draco kept casting, long after I had told people to stop."

Silence.

"As a result of that, we were on site too long and Buster was killed."

Riddle was surprised. Lucius had at least covered the high points; though well after the fact. He advised, "Any operation requires planning, communication and obedience. Before that, they require assessment of risk and reward. In this case, there was nothing to be gained. Draco's hot-headed mouth got his family barred from the bank, not Miss Granger. Draco's lust for revenge from an ill-perceived wrong got Goyle killed yesterday. Will _he_ look after Buster's family? The best thing to have done would have been to have gone there, assessed that there was too much risk given the limited reward, and satiated Draco's frustration with one of the rental girls at Knockturn. If all you were going to do was burn down a building, you should have done it at night by yourselves."

He contemplated possible punishments and announced, "Mistakes were made and I am a forgiving man, to a point. One of you will be forgiven and one of you will be punished. The next time we meet you will give me your choice."

As he reached the door, Riddle remarked, "Lucius, do not think of me as excessively harsh. We were close in 1981; very close to having toppled the government and would have been in charge. We cannot govern a people if they all choose to rise against us, nor can we kill them all. Your son cannot take offense at every little slight and you cannot put scarce resources at risk without due diligence. The next time, I see Theresa Goyle, I will expect her to tell me that an unnamed benefactor deposited one-hundred thousand galleons in her vault. I will look in on you in a week. Choose carefully."

… - …

Albus slowly approached the shack. Extending his senses, he focused on the residual magics. They felt polluted, corrupted and wrong. The ring was there. He was positive. He also suspected that there were parselmagics at work and could have used the services of young William Weasley.

Nonetheless, he took another step forward.

… - …

ooo ccc ooo

Mr. Crow, you cannot possibly leave the Headmaster there like that. We previously discussed cliffhangers and abnormally dangerous scenes. And where have you been these last years? Have you been drinking moonshine? Implying I was Albus' age? What were you thinking? And what of young Mr. Malfoy? What did you mean by choose carefully? I'll admit, he's not my favorite, but still... You simply cannot - Where are you going?"

He also wanted to know if Lucius would stand up for his son or stand aside. Perhaps his fellow scribes had the answer.

He was still trying to understand what she'd been referring to by 1275 or the Offenses Against the Person act the last time he'd stopped to make a delivery. It sounded important. He'd think about it on the ride to Kingston.

McGonagall was wasting her time. The only things left in the empty room were his report and a bar tab from the Asylum with writing on the back. The Horcrux Within 7505602.

Shaking with anger, she vowed, "He'd better be on his best behavior when he returns." She began to doubt that her brandy, or any supply could hold up to the task.

**End Part I**

… - …


	5. Delisle

.

**Part II – Entering into a Paul Kersey Frame of Mind**

**Chapter 5 - Delisle**

Friday 23 July

"Minister, you wished to see me?"

"Yes. This business with the _Times_; it has to stop." She closed the door behind her.

"Stop how, Minister?"

"Amelia, you must have more important things to do than to investigate the accidental deaths of a few muggles."

"So what you're really saying is that a wizard murdering a muggle isn't a priority."

"In so many words."

"What happens when the tables are turned?"

"Whatever do you mean?" She finally had his complete attention.

"What happens when those 110 policemen who are assigned to investigate the attack, conclude, via irrefutable photographic evidence, that Lucius Malfoy and Conrad Parkinson are behind it, and either or both of them are killed in the process of being apprehended? What happens when Mundungus Fletcher is murdered by a street gang? Think about it, Minister. The Queen's military has a larger force than we have witches and wizards in all of Britain. Surely you don't want to start a war with the Queen? Sooner or later, your _close associates _will face justice. Will you stand with them? On your orders, I'll leave them alone for now, but far too many people know who they are. The first time they attack in full regalia, we'll put some of them down and you'll be out of office. This will be over, or completely out of control, by Christmas. Good day, Minister." She closed the door behind her when she left; pleased that she hadn't completely lost her temper.

There wasn't enough whiskey in Fudge's liquor cabinet to make his pounding headache go away. He chose to ignore the truth in her words. All he wanted was to maintain the status quo, where he received 'campaign contributions' on a regular basis. It didn't seem to him like it was too much to ask for.

… - …

Monday 9 August

It had been just over three weeks since the attack. Dan went to see Dr. Krebbs for the weekly update. He asked, "Has there been any progress?"

The neurosurgeon replied, "Based on the latest scan, the swelling on her right side has continued to subside. The cranial damage on her left side has been healing nicely."

Dan nodded at the seemingly encouraging news.

Krebbs continued, "That said, I believe that she can be removed from the ventilator tomorrow."

"What then?"

"We would keep her here another two days to ensure that she experiences no difficulty in breathing. Passing that, she should be moved to a long-term care facility. She will require skilled nursing until she wakes up."

"When?"

Dr. Krebbs replied, "That's the uncertain part. My guess is four. Whether four weeks, four months or four years on the absolute outside, time will tell."

Dan felt shattered at the prospect of Emma being gone four years and apparently failed to hide it very well.

"Dr. Granger, she _will_ wake up and it is my firm belief that you will have your wife back as you know her. I'd ask that you continue to visit her a time or two each week and that you do what you can to put your life back together. Bring her favorite book and read her a chapter or two each time. As a recommendation, I'd suggest St. Michaels on Crawley Ave. near the strip mall that's just getting finished. The staff is excellent. I'll continue to check on her on a weekly basis. I'll send you progress reports every two weeks, or we can meet at your preference."

Dan nodded. He had no expertise in this area and the other man sounded genuinely encouraging.

Krebbs added, "You should contact St. Michaels today and register her. They'll contact the hospital, make the transportation arrangements and get Dr. Granger moved in on Friday."

"Thank you."

… - …

Minerva was livid. Albus had lost his left hand, and was being as casual about is as if he'd misplace one of his stockings! "What do you mean; it's just one of those things? That's the weakest excuse that I've ever heard, and in our positions, that's saying something."

He just gave her a grandfatherly look and replied, "Not to worry. Have all of the supply invoices been paid?"

"Of course they have. Stop deflecting my question. Her lips had thinned to a dangerous level.

He glanced at her, decided it was time to retreat and said, "I really must be going then. I'll be back tomorrow."

… - …

The police hadn't announced any new leads on the case. The Darth Vader angle had proven fruitless. The _Times_ had concluded that it was a random act of violence, possibly fueled by alcohol or drugs.

Dan and the other tenants of the building had all been interviewed. He answered all of their questions, but did not offer information about the CCTV tape or any speculation about the identities of the attackers. His only comment was a truthful, "I've never met any of those people."

The causes of some of the deaths, such as the hygienists had been explainable. Others such as the woman in the parking lot, or Jack hadn't been. Several people had seen Jack ram the attackers; however there were no witnesses to the woman's death.

The replacement of the video tape completely played against the random act theory, but none of the tenants had an obvious motive. They had no hard evidence regarding who had switched the tapes. Since the tapes were recycled on a weekly basis, there were mixed fingerprints all over the cassette and recorder.

Several of the second floor tenants reported seeing Dan and Ami rescue the two women. Several others reported one of the tenants pulling the other woman's body out of the first floor office.

Lead Investigator, Inspector Nichole from the Crawley PD had been by a few times, to ask Dan and Ami how things were going, or get a bit of information such as Jack's address. She didn't offer any leads or promise of finding the perpetrators.

… - …

Saturday 14 August

Amelia, Harry, and Hermione appeared in her front yard. It had become something of a routine for the last month. Dan needed some time away for work and the two teens had become a very welcome addition at their home. Susan had become quite a lonely girl after her friends, the Abbotts moved to the States a year ago.

Amelia and Susan had enjoyed being invited to go out for dinner and a movie to celebrate Harry's birthday a few weeks ago. It hadn't been much and certainly wasn't to the level of what Emma would have planned, but it was a fun evening, nonetheless. Hermione mentioned that Harry didn't mind that it was just the five of them and that he'd stopped doing things with the Weasleys after Ron had so vocally called Harry a liar and a cheat for getting picked into the Tri-Wizard fiasco. Besides, she'd found the _Apollo 13_ movie to be completely captivating; especially when Dan mentioned that it really occurred.

"Thanks for coming to get us, Madam Bones. Dad had to go help Grandpa Ben out and, well, thanks."

Amelia replied, "We're just as glad for the company, Hermione. Your family is always welcome here. Susan would have had a lonely holiday without you two. Come in and have some breakfast, or at least some tea. Susan's outside some place. You can catch up in a few minutes."

Just as they arrived, the newspaper arrived. Hermione eyed the front page for a moment and ask, "How could that happen?"

Amelia replied, "If you're referring to the Malfoy appointment by Fudge to the ICW headline, I'd offer a personal opinion that Lucius bought himself a part-time job. Like an ambassador in the muggle world, they serve at the pleasure of their head of state. Obviously, Professor Dumbledore is no longer in Fudge's good graces."

She continued, "If you're asking about Tiberius Ogden being appointed Chief of the Wizengamot, first realize that Professor Dumbledore voluntarily stepped down. I personally believe that he is a good choice.

My personal question on the matter is, what's he trying to accomplish that he needed to step down from those two positions to free up the time? I suppose that he could have fought Fudge, and made a big stink if he really wanted to keep the jobs. He clearly has something else that he wants to work on.

Back to Lucius himself, Minister Fudge… Well aside from the obvious; bribery and his apparent disbelief of reanimation itself, I suppose that it comes down to his belief that as soon as he acknowledges that people he knows are out being Death Eaters, that the fighting will immediately ramp up. I know that it seemed callous to say, but for most witches and wizards, four dead in your parents' parking lot is much easier to accept than four dead in an attack on St. Mungo's."

"Trying her best to hold back a sob, Hermione asked, "So if you can't arrest those idiots for being Death Eaters, why not arrest them for littering?"

Harry added, "Sooner or later, they'll do something that would be sufficient to get one of them loaded with Veritaserum."

Amelia nodded and admitted, "Those are actually very good ideas. Do I want to know how you're so familiar with Veritaserum?"

Harry replied, "Snape threatens us with it all the time."

Amelia shook her head in disbelief. She replied, "Go find Susan now. She mentioned that she had something to show you."

Harry gave a little cough and Hermione replied, "Thank you for breakfast, Ms. Bones."

Amelia smiled and said, "Have a fun day."

… - …

"Dan, this was witches and wizards that hurt Em, wasn't it?"

"Well…"

"Dan, Em's gran, my mum, Patti was a witch. She was smart, a healer; pretty too. I didn't get my letter, so that changed a lot of things at our house. Em's mum, my Ellie and I drifted away from the fringes of the magical world. After Uni, I became a dentist, met Ellie. We got married in '40 and moved to a non-magical neighborhood. I served in the army. In '46 a crew was out digging them up, and a previously unexploded German bomb blew up most of St. Mungo's. Mum went to work that morning and I never saw her again. Just like that. I'd occasionally stop in at the Leaky Cauldron, to have lunch and read the newspaper, but there wasn't much in it until the early 70s."

He continued, "I mostly stayed away from the magical world, especially after little Em was born. I half expected her to show signs, but by seven she'd never expressed, so I put it out of my mind."

He put his cup down and added, "Like I said, that monster Voldemort came along with those rabid dogs that he had with him. From the little I read, it's like there was an empty hole in him that he was trying to fill through the deaths of decent folk. Them folk are dogs, Dan. They'll never change. Understand; they'll _never_ change. They should all be put down."

Dan was momentarily surprised by the similarity between the words of his father-in-law and the guard at the bank.

Ben continued, "Prison's no good for them. I read they all talked their way out of a sentence. It was them; it was those Death Eaters, wasn't it? Darth Vader zealots, my skinny arse. Bleeding newspapers lie every day. We gotta get 'em, we gotta find those rabid dogs and put 'em down."

Dan thought for only a second and replied, "I agree, but how? You have a hard time walking distances and I'm willing, but I'm no soldier."

"We'll get 'em, Dan. We'll get 'em. Leave the kids out of it. Your boy, Harry; he's already seen too much action for a lad his age and Hermione, she's a witch too?"

Dan nodded. This wasn't the time to say anything else. Ben was on a roll.

"I thought so. They're too young for this. We'll leave them out of it. Em; she'll get better one day."

"Ben, the damage was massive, but we'll never give up hope."

They sat in comfortable silence. A minute later, he said, "Ben, I want to show you something." He put a VCR tape into the player, found the spot and pressed play. In less than a minute they watched Dan's life come apart. He rewound it to a spot, pressed play again, then paused it, and said, "Those two little bastards; they were the ones that bothered Hermione in the bank. They're the reason my staff is dead and Emma…"

The older man had a determined look on his face. He said, "You come see me next Sunday. Send those beautiful kids off for the day. We've got some work to do."

… - …

Wednesday 18 August

"Auntie, is Dr. Emma allowed to have visitors at that new place?"

"I'm sure. Would you like us to go visit her?"

"Yes, very much."

"OK. Why?"

"I want to tell her something."

"Susie, she…"

"When Hermione was petrified in second year, Harry used to go visit her all the time. He'd hold her hand and talk to her. Everyone thought that it was cute and silly, but that he was wasting his time."

"And…"

"Hermione told me that she could always tell when he was there and sometimes she remembered him talking to her. So what if Dr. Emma is the same?"

"OK, my love. We'll go tomorrow afternoon."

"Thanks, Auntie. Love you too."

… - …

Crawley PD Inspector Nichole reviewed the thick file of case notes on the clinic bombing. A total of twelve of the windows had been broken; apparently with some sort of explosive devices. Most of the broken windows were from the dental clinic. Two had been in the adjacent suite and two from the second floor, occupied by a family counseling group and chartered accountants respectively. There was no obvious motive.

Several people from the second floor had reported seeing Jack ram two of the attackers. Based on their descriptions, Nichole would have expected them to have been dead, or end up in an emergency room; the same with the attacker with the arm injury.

She remained surprised that no unexploded devices or residual explosive evidence had been found. Given the compartmentalized layout of the office, almost every window must have been shattered individually. In her research on terroristic attacks, she hadn't been able to find an instance where IEDs had that high of a success rate.

Equally frustrating, the cause of deaths of either the parking lot bystander or the driver of the SUV was yet to be determined. Further, the attackers had removed the CCTV tape and replaced it just after the attack

Finally, the attackers hadn't been seen prior to the day of the attack or since. None of the witnesses could recall seeing the attackers leave the scene.

Inspector Nichole was stumped. The evidence didn't make sense.

Except for the replacement of the tape, it was as if they didn't realize or care that they'd been seen. In the photo provided by the _Times_, none of the attackers were obviously carrying either the explosive/incendiary devices or weapons.

Several witnesses, including the office worker and a woman from a different suite confirmed seeing Dan and Jack walk to the back lot, where the employees parked, moments before the attack. It was the normal departure time for both men. Had the attack occurred two minutes later, the dental office could have been empty.

Perhaps the most frustrating aspect was the strange behavior of two of the front parking lot witnesses. Their initial reports were crisp and detailed. Yet on the subsequent interview, they had no real recollection of the attack. Other witnesses identified the two as having been out in the lot at the time of the attack, so they hadn't just speculated on the details of the attack.

Her colleague, Inspector Turner hadn't found anything incriminating when he checked the financial records of the dental business. Their returns indicated that the business was in sound financial condition. Their personal financial scores were excellent. They'd even adopted an abused kid a few years back. Dan Granger had no motive to blow up his own business; none of the tenants had.

Inspector Nichole's best lead remained the photograph. She'd kept it in the newspapers since the attack. Sooner or later, someone had to recognize one of those men.

… - …

Saturday 21 August

Ben Olifson lived on a property east of South Hampton, some sixty miles from Crawley. Whereas he thought that the eight acres that he'd lived on for most of his life was just right and enjoyed his grove of trees and no neighbors for nearly a mile, his son-in-law, Dan was much more comfortable on pavement. They had never been close during the years prior to the attack. Hermione expressing magic starting at about six and their attempts to hide it added yet another wall between them.

The attack and their talk a week ago had erased the gap, as if it had never existed. As he drove along A272, Dan mentally compared his recollection of the graveyard event that Amelia had shown them with the newspaper photo and had arrived with the following names, Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Marcus Flint, presumably his father, Buster Goyle, Conrad Parkinson, DE-A, DE-B and DE-C. Nine men – six names. As he reached Ben's plot of wooded land, the anger burned in him. It wasn't exactly rage; rather what he would term righteous anger, best served ice cold.

He was of three lines of thought – Could he go after them? What if he didn't? What if they were caught or killed?

Somehow the last item was easiest to consider. In the worst case, he was certain that Ben or Amelia would take the two teens in. Harry certainly had the means to ensure that they wouldn't be a burden to anyone.

_Could he_ was the most difficult. Would he fight or kill to protect his family? There was no doubt in his mind. Seeing that stupid young man pounce on his daughter like an animal was all the fuel that he needed to start that journey. Did he have the means was a different story. Watching Harry's memory of that Pettigrew man murdering Harry's schoolmate was just as quick as the bad guys getting shot in his favorite _Miami Vice_ show. Unfortunately, living in Britain, he had no access to Crocket's Bren Ten.

The greater question in his mind was could he live with himself if he didn't do anything? He could go to the police, but didn't want to condemn any unsuspecting officers to a sudden death at the end of a stick. He easily pictured a war between the magicals and the Queen's military. Hundreds, thousands would senselessly get slaughtered. Hermione and Harry could easily get sucked into such a conflict. No – he couldn't go that way.

When he got out of his car, Ben hardly needed to ask him how he was; they'd seen each other more in the last few weeks than the last few years. When Ben asked him to come out, Dan had been expecting to commiserate over the excessively expensive whiskey that the older man preferred. Instead Ben asked him, "Do you still want to get those bastards? Are you sure?"

Without a thought, Dan looked him in the eye and replied, "Yes, more than ever, and I have some names to go on."

Ben nodded and handed Dan a tape measure and a shovel. He took one end of the tape and walked to a large beech tree at the edge of a fence. He pointed to another one next to a big rock and said, "Go to that tree and measure the distance."

Dan did and replied, "Forty-two feet."

Ben said, "Pull the tape close to the tree, lock it and set it down by the beech. Now come back to the twenty one foot mark."

Dan asked, "What's this about, a buried treasure hunt?"

Ben gave a wry smile and said, "Something like that. Mark the spot and let's sit for a minute." They walked back to the wrought iron patio set by the house. Ben did have a bottle, two glasses and an ice bucket, which he knew Dan preferred. He put two cubes in the glass and poured two fingers of the smoky malt whiskey. He poured the same in his glass, except there was no ice, and recapped the bottle. Looking at Dan, he asked, "If you had a clear chance to bury those bastards who hurt Em, would you take it?"

Dan thought for a minute and replied, "Since I know that Hermione and Harry have someone who would watch them grow, then yes, I would. No hesitation. What have you got in mind?"

Ben recalled, "After the war, I was frequently paid in barter when I fixed people's teeth. One day in '47, an old Sergeant that I knew, a career man, paid me for replacing his son's teeth. They'd been busted up pretty good in a bombing in '41 and he wanted his boy to look good for his wedding. Anyway he gave me something he called Fredric and Lyle and told me to bury it, in case a day like this ever came, and I called it square. Strange sense of humor, that old buzzard. That old Sergeant, he died a few months later. I did enjoy his company."

"What did he give you?"

Ben replied, "I'm not positive, but I think it's just what we need. Get the shovel. Let's go find out."

Dan picked it up and Ben directed, "You need to dig a big hole; four feet by two at least. Get to about three feet, and then you need to be careful as you go the rest of the way."

When Dan had reached the three feet mark, his hands were sore and his back hurt. That said, his determination hadn't wavered a bit.

He kept digging.

… - …

Ami worked tirelessly separating and smoothing the pages and putting the patient records into new jackets. The water from the automatic sprinkler system had soaked everything that hadn't been sealed. A few of the file drawers had been opened when the attack occurred. Anything that had been on the floor had been ruined.

Yet, the fact of the matter was that her thoughts weren't on soaked paper or stuck together negatives, rather on other matters. She'd work up the courage to tell Dr. G what she needed. She was sure that he'd understand.

… - …

Dan hit something that wasn't a rock. After five minutes he was afraid that he was digging up a child's casket. After ten minutes, he realized that it was a wooden crate, triple wrapped in canvas. It was four feet in length a foot wide and a foot high. Inside the canvas were two ropes that could be used to lift the box out. He asked, "Is it heavy?"

"About fifty pounds or so," replied Ben. "Toss the ends of the ropes out, so we can lift it out of the ground." They pulled and managed to lift the crate out of the hole.

Ben replied, "Let's get it into the garage. I'll show you."

Dan lifted the heavy crate and they set it on Ben's work bench.

"Here, use this," suggested Ben, as he handed Dan a small metal pry bar to open the wooden crate. Dan slit the pry bar in the crack between the box wall and the lid, which was in remarkably good shape for having been in the ground for nearly fifty years.

"Cosmoline," offered Ben, answering Dan's unasked question. "The contents should be as good as the day they were planted."

Dan pried the lid open and found three more wooden boxes. One was about the size of a shoe box and was quite heavy. It was marked 45 Ball. Dan picked that up and set it on the floor. Another was about the size of a textbook and marked 1911 Remington. The last box was unmarked, except for the number 121. It was just over three feet long and about seven inches high and wide. What struck Dan as remarkable was the condition. Whereas much of the canvas had been rotted and the outside of the big wooden crate stained, aside from a sticky petroleum gel feel, these boxes looked almost brand new.

"Alright, you've done enough work for a morning," remarked Ben. "Let's move this big crate off the bench and I'll take over for a bit."

… - …

Hedwig flew in through the open window and landed on her perch. She clicked her beak twice to get his attention. Harry opened the letter from Susan, marked _Harry's eyes only._

Confused at the label, he noticed that the letter contained a photograph. Susan was standing, wearing her white bikini that he liked so much. The letter said _tap photo_. He did and as she turned around the top dropped.

Harry must have tapped the photo thirty times before he put it into the envelope and back into his trunk.

He loved magical photos.

… - …

As Dan had guessed, the textbook sized box contained a pistol. Ben remarked, "This type was widely issued to the Yanks. During the war, they were re-licensed by a company named Colt to a handful of other firms that also manufactured them – Singer, which normally made sewing machines, Sperry, which normally made business equipment, Remington, which made this one; they were in the firearms business and a small handful of other firms were too."

Ben held it up to the light and continued, "Look at the finish. This sort of flat gray look was called Parkerizing. I suppose it was either faster or less expensive than the bluing process that was normally used in sporting firearms, or so I've read. The two magazines hold the bullets; seven bullets each. That's this box."

Dan put the shoebox crate on the workbench and Ben carefully opened the container. Inside were ten cardboard boxes. Dan opened one. Inside were fifty stubby looking bullets – a brass case with what looked like a copper slug. Ben explained, "it has a copper coated lead slug; the projectile piece."

Dan looked doubtful. "These are pretty old. Will they still work?" He looked at the box. It was marked 42.

Ben chuckled and replied, "If stored correctly, they have a long shelf life; remarkably long."

"What's the last box?" asked Dan.

"We'll save that for next later. Let's go eat."

… - …

Ami rehearsed her words yet again; hoping that he'd understand her needs. The wet folders were starting to dry. She'd actually re-soaked a few to keep the sheets from drying stuck together before she could separate them.

She rehearsed her words one more time.

… - …

"How's it going with the clinic?"

Dan replied, "The sprinklers did a pretty good job keeping the fire down and a lot of the stuff wasn't flammable. The back office wasn't burned, so the patient records are fine. Ami gave Emma weekly backups of the computer records that we kept in my trunk, so the business records are intact. The surgical suites were all wrecked."

Ben nodded and replied, "That's the replaceable part." After what had become a comfortable silence, he asked, "So when are you going to reopen?"

"If."

"When. When Emma wakes up, you'll either be well on your way, or have it open. You're not some lay-about, and that spunky lass who pulled Emma out of a burning building needs a job."

"But?"

"We'll work on this project on Thursdays and Saturdays. You work on getting the practice going the other four days and we'll visit Em on Sundays."

Dan thought about Ben's words and agreed, "That's a plan. Before you leave, I picked up some books that we should both read before next time."

… - …

Friday 27 August

"Dr. G, there something I wanted to ask you."

Dan looked at the young woman who had saved his wife's life and after the police cleared the scene, had come in everyday to sort things out. He asked, "What's up?"

"Dr. G, can we settle up today? My rent is due and I don't…"

Dan realized that he'd caused the young woman undue distress through his neglect. She'd worked tirelessly and deserved much better. He apologized, "Ami, I'm so very sorry. You know Em handled all of those details. First, how much do I owe you?"

Ami pulled a paper out. "The last time Dr. Emma wrote payroll checks was at the end of June. Gross or net?"

"Gross."

"About six thousand."

Dan went to his car, opened Harry's aluminum briefcase, and handed her two bundles of fifty pound notes.

"Holy crap! Thanks Dr. G." She hugged him for a moment and he awkwardly patted her on the back. She pulled out her notebook and added, "We also owe these companies as well as payroll for Pat, Grace and Jack. I don't know how that works. If you still have the accounting system backups, we can go buy a PC and get the accounting system re-installed and a backup restored. The sprinklers ended up wrecking all of the electrical equipment. Has the adjuster been by lately? I think we should set up a temporary office someplace. Do you have a box of check stock? Did the checking account get unfrozen? Have you thought if you want to refurnish this place or look at a different site? Dr. G? Are you listening?"

He took his eyes away from a photo of Emma and the rest of the family that they'd taken last summer. Though water stained, it was still quite precious to him.

He replied, "If you wouldn't feel uncomfortable, we could set up a very temporary office in my living room. I'll go to the bank Monday. Can you purchase a PC that will work? The investigator unfroze our business account this last Monday, I'd like you to spend next week boxing up everything that's not ruined. I'll talk with the leasing agent next week. I'll call you on Tuesday. Will that work?"

"Thanks, Dr. G" Her smile was infectious.

… - …

Saturday 28 August

Aesthetically, the DeLisle rifle was, at best, unattractive. It could have been described as, _What would you get if you crossed an Enfield rifle with a motorcycle muffler?_

It was short, squatty, remarkably heavy and equipped with mediocre sights. It was, in fact, cobbled together early in the war, using the stock and receiver of the widely available Enfield bolt action rifle, fitted with a .45 caliber Thompson submachine gun barrel. Then it was fitted with an oversized baffled suppresser tube that extended some eight inches beyond the short barrel. The rifle used the same seven round magazine as the .45 pistol, modified slightly to hold it in place.

Aesthetics aside, it was a masterpiece for its intended purpose; silently killing an enemy at a fairly short range. In Dan's experience, it was only as loud as a BB gun, which was to say, not at all; just a soft _pfft._ In fact, the sound produced when chambering the next round was louder than the sound made when the firing pin hit the primer. At fifty feet, Ben couldn't hear it. At seventy-five feet, Dan couldn't hear it. Due to the massive suppressor tube, there was no flash visible, even in the evening.

The DeLisle rifle had been invented to kill enemy sentries. While it had a theoretical range of two hundred yards, it was designed for close-in work. During the war, it saw most of its actual use in the jungles of the pacific at distances less than 100 feet.

The Enfield was a bolt action rifle, so to chamber a bullet, you operated the bolt, which extracted the old casing and chambered the new bullet. To cock the rifle, the shooter pulled back a spring loaded nob, which held the firing pin, and the rifle was ready to fire. On the model that they had, operating the bolt automatically cocked the rifle.

Because the .45 bullet was subsonic and because the next round did not automatically chamber and because of the massive suppresser, the rifle was virtually silent. Dan thought it was much quieter than the so-called silencers he'd seen in the movies.

The pleasant surprise was that the rear sight was adjustable for both windage and elevation. This made it easy to adjust to what the two men considered straight and could be ranged for zero, twenty-five, fifty, seventy-five one-hundred or two-hundred yards. As such, if they could walk-off or estimate the expected distance, they could easily sight in the rifle before the shot. Where it would get tricky would be if they were forced to shoot at several targets at different ranges at the same time.

After each man had fired a rifle a dozen times to become familiar with the basic operation, they tried the pistol. In comparison to the rifle, it was quicker to point and fire; certainly faster with the second or third round, but was loud - disturbingly loud. Ben observed, ""If we're lucky, we'll catch 'em when they're in the middle of a confrontation with someone else. They'll never hear the rifle and never look for us. If we're really lucky, we'll get 'em either facing at or from us. The bullet will pass through em and they'll think it was some sort of piercing hex cast by a wizard. You remember what that book said, '_One shot, one kill.'"_

"True," agreed Dan," but we're not wearing a white feather. However, we do have a very serious advantage over the snipers that we've read about."

"What's that?"

"Ten seconds after we fire, we can be in the back garden. We can hit 'em and be gone before they take their last breath. We just need to pick up after ourselves."

They put the weapons back in the wooden crate that was used as their makeshift gun case and walked back inside.

Ben asked, "Can you? Can you do this, Dan, with no hesitating?"

Dan hadn't even started on his glass. He carefully set it in the table and calmly replied, "Those bastards didn't hesitate to burn down my clinic, kill three of my friends and try to kill Emma. I don't think I could have last May, but now, yes. I can do it now. You?"

"Yep, pretty much the same reasons, but I've read what those rabid dogs did just to join that sick-arsed son of a bitch – kids, wives, young or old; made no difference to them. Dan, it's not just that they attacked you and Em this one time. Back when they were going strong last time, there were unexplained deaths and disappearances every week. Once they get going again, it'll be beyond the two of us to put a stop to it. If it ends up costing the two of us, and we put a stop to it, I'd pass on as a satisfied man; but that won't happen. We've got the makings of a plan and the best tools ever made. We'll get some spots figured out and we'll be on our way."

… - …

Hermione observed, "Dad's been gone a lot."

Harry replied, "Dan's got a lot on his plate right now. He made all the arrangements to get mom taken care of, there must be loads of stuff for their clinic; especially now that he's moving it. Honestly, I don't know how he does it. Then he's spending time with Grandpa Ben. That's pretty cool. I like him. So, do you have any other undiscovered relatives around that I can meet?"

She replied, "No. Not this time." She looked into his emerald eyes and smiled. "Thanks Harry. You always make me feel better."

"You're OK too."

"Big on the compliments today."

… - …

"So Dan, are you good at math?"

"Fair."

"I want you to keep two figures in mind - nine hundred feet per second and thirty-two feet per second."

"Does this involve the _A car left point A traveling to point B_, sort of stuff, like we had in Uni?"

Ben gave a laugh and replied, "More like velocity of the slug and the rate at which it will drop. Let's take the easy one first, you shoot at something 900 feet away and your bullet travels at 900 feet per second. Keeping the math simple and ignoring increase or decrease in velocity, it would drop thirty-two feet. Where this matters is, suppose we want to shoot at something at fifty yards away - one hundred and fifty feet. If the rifle were sighted perfectly even, at fifty yards away, the bullet would hit about five feet lower than the spot you aimed at."

Dan replayed the example, knowing that objects fell 32 feet in the first second.

"There's two points to this. As rifles go, the .45 caliber bullet that we've got is lumbering along like a turtle. Most rifle bullets travel two or three times as fast. On the other hand, as bullets go, it's a great big hunk of lead. We hit 'em, they'll drop."

"But, and there is an important but to this – anything faster than about a thousand feet per second is supersonic and leaves a tell-tale crack, that can't be effectively silenced. There might be better ammunition for sale these days, but even if we could get our hands on it, we can't afford to be seen or heard."

"The second point, and this will be the tough part, will be to estimate how far away your target is. The easy way to do that is to have an area already picked out. That's not too hard, because in our case we're going to follow one of the great axioms of hunting._ If you're going to hunt, you want to be where the quarry is likely to be."_

"Keep that in mind for a minute. I need to use the loo."

Dan thought about Ben's words – _be where the quarry is likely to be_. Beyond that, he had to find a place to effectively hide and be able to get out of when needed. There had to be some simple answers.

Ben came back with two sandwiches and handed one to Dan. "Any ideas?"

"Well, in simplest terms, either they'll be in their homes or they'll be out somewhere."

"OK…"

"Going after them in their homes would be next to impossible, given wards that they could put on their homes and the simple fact that we don't have a clue where they live."

"My thought too. So where else do we look?"

"There are only two magical locations that we know of – Diagon Alley and that place that they mention by their school in Scotland, Hogsmeade. There might be others but that's a start."

Ben replied, "Those were the only two places that I remember my Mum taking me to."

After a bite he added, "You've been to Diagon Alley, right? You remember how to get in?"

"Yes, you go through the back door of the Leakey Cauldron and tap a couple of bricks in the correct sequence with your wand. Bugger. I don't suppose you have a wand?"

… - …

"Harry, why do you call Mum, Mum, but Dad, Dan?"

"I dunno. When they first took me in, Emma said I could call her Emma, Em or Mum. Dan never mentioned anything, so I stuck with Dan. Do you think he wants me to call him Dad?"

"Want probably isn't the right word. I'm sure he wouldn't mind and I think he'd probably like it, especially now that Mum's… not around."

… - ..

"Ben asked, "So how many of these sons of bitches are we talking about?"

"Harry showed me a memory that showed twenty two of them. I'll get their names before the kids go back to school. The creepy guy also mentioned a handful of others in their prison – Azkaban. Unless he's in a serious recruiting mode, it would be safe to say, less than fifty. According to one of the guys in the office next to me, Jack ran one of them down with his Land Rover."

Ben raised his glass and said, "Here's to one down."

That was something they would happily toast.

ooo ccc ooo

The old scribe could barely move. He'd been in Nevada with a bunch of similarly minded people, doing Nevada things for several days and nearly endless evenings. Several of the activities which had seemed effortless a score of years back, were now reminding him that McGonagall wasn't the only one getting older.

Fortunately, he had remembered his report, just not the day of the week. As quietly as he could, he crept into McGonagall's office and was just leaving when he heard, "1275, Mr. Crow. You will keep that concept in your mind. Additionally, recall that higher mathematics are not specifically taught at Hogwarts. You _will_ keep those concepts as simple as possible."

After he had left, she held the whisky soaked parchment at arm's length, lest the odor overpower her. A slip fell out, reading Master of Luck – 10086764.

The cold was now biting – far too early in the season to be this temperature. The steel horse was parked, in its own version of Cosmoline. It would be ready when it was again called.

**Real Author Note** – I realize that the discussion between Ben and Dan doesn't take acceleration of a falling object into account. It was intentionally left out to simplify the chapter.

Note for new readers – the last scene in my tales are a series of running Author Notes detailing the interactions between the story teller and the fanfiction record-keeper, McGonagall. Occasionally a story recommendation and occasionally a brain teaser, or a comment on proper readership etiquette (if pleased, say thank you) is included, but the scene is not a part of the story. Enjoy or skip. You can edit the web address line with the new number to find the story.

… - …


	6. Words with Draco

**.**

**Chapter 6 - Words with Draco**

Monday 30 August

Hedwig waited patiently while the young girl finished her letter. The girl with strawberry blond hair just brushing her shoulders must have been preening herself, as she wasn't wearing any of those coverings that her master and his family insisted on. This one had nice curves and smelled good.

As she tied the letter to her leg, the kind female asked, "Would you like a bug or a frog this time?"

Hedwig clicked her beak twice as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"OK, here's a little frog. Hurry back and I'll find a worm or a minnow next time." The beautiful bird took to the air and was on her way.

… - …

While they were having breakfast, Dan announced, "We're going to Diagon Alley this morning."

Hermione, who was always pleased with the opportunity to purchase another few books asked, "Did we forget something?"

He replied, "No. I need some help at Gringotts and thought you both should get an extra robe or two. Harry, if you have any extra galleons, I'd like to buy some from you, if I can?"

The two teens looked at each other as if Christmas had come early. They used their new portkey watches and a few wild seconds later, were just outside the front steps at Gringotts. Dan thought, _Holy crap, indeed_ as he cleared his head for a moment to stop the spinning sensation.

They walked into the bank, nodding at the guards who had previously assisted them. Head Teller Sneerwell looked at them for nearly a minute; focusing almost exclusively on Dan. Finally he spoke, "Mr. Potter, you and Miss Granger should collect fifteen thousand pounds from your father. In return, he'll require two-thousand galleons from you. The difference is the agreed payments. You and Miss Granger should go to the carts to accomplish that. Also collect fifty galleons and a handful of sickles each for pocket money for the school term. Dr. Granger and I have some terms to agree on until you return."

Dan handed Harry three stacks of notes and they went on their way.

Sneerwell asked, "Did you and your wife agree to move office locations prior to the attack?"

"Yes, we were going to see you the following day."

"Did you agree on the suggested location in the strip mall on Crawley Ave?"

"Yes."

"Have you concluded your negotiation with the Insurance Adjuster?"

"No."

"Have you visited your own bank yet?"

"No."

Sneerwell, nodded and replied, "Excellent. Given Dr. Granger's unfortunate condition, we will accept your signature only, in all necessary situations. We can help you as follows;

"For ten percent of the difference over their current offer, we'll significantly improve your insurance settlement. For a fee of three hundred galleons, we'll negotiate very favorable terms with the owners of the strip mall. Were you thinking of a five-year lease?"

"Correct."

"Within the same fee, we'll discontinue your obligation at the Buckswood location. When will Miss Ami Anderson be ready to have your existing office records and undamaged equipment moved?"

"I expect next Monday evening."

"For ten percent of the savings under list, we'll negotiate very favorable pricing on the new equipment for your surgical suites. When can you provide a list of what you will require?"

"A week. We kept pretty good records."

_You have no idea what good recordkeeping is,_ thought Sneerwell, who continued, "Aside from laser cheque stock and an address change notification, do you require anything from your business account bank?"

"No."

"We will have the signed contracts available for you on Wednesday. A box of cheque stock will be delivered to your home at three PM today."

"Thank you."

"Regarding your other task, if you were considering short-term leases on two properties here in London and one in Hogsmeade, three months should suffice. Your task and ours are closely aligned. There will be no charge for negotiating very favorable rates and a different name will be used for each of the leases. We will include an optional fourth month extension, should it be necessary. One hundred galleons total per room should suffice. Do you have other business today, Dr. Granger?"

Astonished at the Goblin's apparent insight, Dan replied, "No. I believe that you've anticipated my every need."

The orange haired goblin nodded and replied, "That is our goal. Please be certain to locate Dr. Granger's portkey. It hasn't been activated yet. You might look in her office. Will you require one for Dr. Granger's father?"

"Yes, please."

"I'll see to it. We'll also adjust yours and his to allow travel to your new clinic. Might I suggest brown when you go shopping? It tends not to attract undue attention. Autumnl weight should suffice nicely. One fitted for Mr. Potter should fit nicely for Dr. Olifson. A gray robe like yours would also be a good choice. You might wish to avoid wearing the same color at the same time to be less noticeable."

"That is great advice. Thank you again."

"Do you have other business today, Dr. Granger?"

"No. You have covered everything."

"Thank you. Please return in two weeks."

… - …

While Harry and Hermione were riding the carts, Amelia and Connie were having tea and scones at her home before work. They both worked late on Monday. Connie asked, "Why so glum?"

Amelia admitted, "Fudge has cooked up this half-baked scheme to interfere with Dumbledore. He's going to send Dolores in as a defense instructor."

Connie had a very evil smirk on her face and replied, "Go on."

"Apparently there's this little known rule that if the instructor positions haven't been filled by noon, the day before school starts, the ministry can choose an instructor."

Connie nibbled on her scone for a moment; delighted with her idea. She replied, "Perfect."

"Perfect? It's a bleeding disaster. With Fudge's backing and her own position, she'll find some underhanded way to take over the school."

"Never." Connie pulled a quill out of her bag and wrote a few sentences on a parchment and handed it to her best friend. Then Connie announced, "You fix us another pot of tea. I want to go say hi to little Susie for a minute and see if she needs any dating advice."

Amelia smiled at the thought and muttered, "Poor Harry. He'll never know what hit him."

… - …

As they were having lunch in London, Dan asked, "So who were the names of those maggots that crawled out of the woodwork in the graveyard again?"

"Let me think a moment? Some special reason?"

"Not really. I read the _Prophet_ when you two are gone. It's nice to know the good guys from the bad guys. Besides, sooner or later, everyone needs a dentist. If I find one in my chair, I can always use the broken drill bits."

Harry laughed and replied, "Works for me. Let's see; I don't know all of the first names. But there was Mr. Avery and his dad. There were a pair of Carrows; I don't know if they were married, or brother and sister. Her name was Alecto, his was Amycus. There was Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle, along with some guy named Gibbon. There was Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson. There was that arse, Walden Macnair, who tried to kill Buckbeak in our third year. There was Mr. Flint and his dad. The younger one was in that picture. Lucius Malfoy was there. He's got the long blond hair and that goofy walking stick. There was a guy named Mulciber and someone named Jugson. There was Mr. Nott and his dad. There was that effing rat, Peter Pettigrew. He can turn into a real rat. There was a guy named Rowle and one named Scaboir. There was a guy I saw at the bank when Draco and Marcus were bothering you, Hermione; his name is Selwyn. The last guy was a really ugly bugger named Yaxley; well except for Tom Riddle. He's got a bunch of stupid names but he mostly looks like a snake. Not counting Riddle, that's twenty-two. Have you got that many broken drill bits?"

Dan quipped, "I could snap a few on purpose, just to be sure." He winked at Harry and smiled a mock-evil sneer.

They all laughed and finished their lunch before using the portkeys to get back to their house.

… - …

Wednesday 1 September

"Hey Scarhead, I heard you and the mudblood had a big bonfire over the summer. Bones, what are you doing here?"

Before she could answer, a flash of inspiration hit Harry. He asked, "So Draco, what's this I hear you're giving out signed photos?"

Completely thrown off of his routine, Draco asked, "What are you on about?"

Harry pulled out an 8x10 photo reprint that they'd ordered from the _Times_ and said, "Here; would you sign mine?" He handed it to Malfoy, along with a sharpie. It was quite a bit clearer than the newspaper version.

All the very confused ferret could utter was, "Where did you get this?"

Catching on, Susan dug her newspaper copy out of her bag and casually replied, "Millions of people get this newspaper. Don't you subscribe?"

Hermione added, "You could order poster sized copies if you want. Here's an order form. You might get one for your common room. We all have them for ours and I'm certain that the Ravenclaws do too. They're only about a galleon each."

"You can't…"

Susan added, "Come on, you look pretty good there. So does your dad. Mr. Parkinson looks very handsome. So does Mr. Flint, though Markus' mask is crooked. Even Theo's dad looks OK. I didn't notice before, but he has the same slouch that Theo does."

Harry added, "Too bad about Greg's dad though. Let me tell you one thing Draco, then you should go sit down. Being an orphan isn't that much fun. That's what will happen when another war lights up. I've lost mine, Hermione's had a close call, Neville's are lost forever; so are Susan's. Greg's lost his dad. It can happen to the kids in Slytherin just as fast as the Hufflepuffs. Is that what you want this next year; a school full of orphans? That will be a cheery place. What's second prize?"

The silence was deafening.

A moment later Susan quietly suggested, "Go on now, Draco. We're almost at Hogsmeade."

… - …

Saturday 4 September

Minerva couldn't remember being so frustrated in her life. Sixteen. Sixteen complaints from students made to her about that woman with three common themes – _"We're not doing anything, she's mean, and the class is worthless."_ A defense class rated as worthless in these times?

What was Albus thinking?

Unfortunately, the answer was obvious to her – when it came to school matters, he wasn't thinking. Whatever it was that he was focused on, it wasn't running a school for magical children.

… - …

Dan put the books and magazines that Ben had found for him in the boot of his car. He looked at the broken cane that had come apart and dashed back inside.

Ben asked, "What'd you forget?

Dan held up the end of the cane, which instead of concealing a sword, contained a wand.

Ben nodded and suggested, "The silver snake head might be a bit easy to recognize. Maybe you want to unscrew it? You might even want to get a wand holder, so you don't put it in your back pocket and accidently sit on it, or have to tuck it into a stocking. Let's go there next week."

Dan replied, "Saturdays are usually pretty crowded. Do we want to try and blend in, or go when there aren't many people there?"

"Let's do Thursday then. Maybe in the morning? I could get to your place by eight. We could go there, look around and be done before people come for lunch.

"Sounds good. I'll see you Wednesday."

… - …

Classes were, for the most part, quite enjoyable. School in general had become easier for Harry, partially due to living with Hermione, partly due to the academic friendly attitude that their parents instilled and partly due to all of the extra work that he'd put in last year while preparing for the various tasks. Then again, not getting dragged down by Ron's endless yapping helped too.

Charms class was of real interest to him, as was the runes class that he took. He was so glad that Emma had talked him out of taking fortunetelling 101 in the summer before third year. Transfiguration was also interesting. He found that he had a good eye for detail and transfiguring complex items; objects with several parts came easier to him than many of his classmates.

It had been his conversation with Hermione, Susan and her Aunt that made Defense tolerable. That and a conversation that Amelia had during the 4 September Department Manager meeting.

… - …

Fudge was just about to begin the meeting, as everyone was there, when Amelia looked up and said, "Dolores, how nice of you to come and visit. Did you have business?"

Fudge looked up from reading his notes and Umbridge asked sweetly, "Whatever do you mean, Amelia?" though the venom in her eyes told a differently.

"Simple; by Wizengamot decree in 1994, a person employed full-time by the ministry may not hold a full time position elsewhere. Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic is classified as a full-time position, as is Hogwarts Professor. Surely you knew that and were terminated when you started Hogwarts on the first. Has the salary action been processed yet, Basil?"

"Yes. That is part of my weekly report. Shall I give it now?"

"Wait," replied Fudge. "That can't…"

"Oh yes," replied, Basil. "It is the law. It was enacted when Alastor Moody has hired to teach at Hogwarts. I believe that Mr. Malfoy was the chief sponsor of the bill. Is that correct, Mr. Malfoy?"

Lucius admitted, "It is within the facts. Yes, you are correct."

"And so I ask again, Dolores: Did you have business here today, other than cleaning out your desk?"

She looked at Fudge, who was stumped. He had inadvertently cut her loose. Defeated, he suggested, "Enjoy your new position, Professor Umbridge."

Amelia jumped on the opportunity and suggested, "Perhaps Amos would be a good choice for Undersecretary. He had previously expressed an interest, and with the unfortunate accident that resulted in Cedric's death..." Her words hung in the air as she made eye contact with the greedy man.

While Pius Thicknesse would have been his choice, even Lucius couldn't find fault with her nomination.

… - …

Monday 6 September

_It's ironic how life's give-and-take system works_, thought Dan as he stood over the general contractor's worktable looking at blueprints. _Some days everything goes right and some days, everything goes badly._

They'd spent the last hour going over the electrical and plumbing specifics relating to the new facility and Dan's mind just wasn't in it. Steven, the general contractor, could see that his client wasn't engaged today, and thought that the man was worried about the widely reported health issues relating to his wife, who'd suffered massive injuries relating to the attack. He showed a bit of empathy and suggested, "Dr. Granger, maybe you'd like to take these home with you and look them over this evening."

Dan absently replied, "Fine."

"These are copies. They can be remarked."

"OK." He was on the dictionary definition of autopilot.

Steven put them in a big three and a half foot tube and put the tube in a nylon carrier with a shoulder strap.

Dan looked on with renewed interest. Another of his problems had just been solved. With considerably more enthusiasm than he'd displayed in the last hour, he said, "I'll either mark these up, or call back as approved in the morning. Thanks."

A bit surprised, Steven replied, "Sounds good."

Dan asked, "Would it be all right if I keep these?"

Steven replied, "They're yours. Just let me know what needs to be done."

Dan had found the perfect carrying case for the little rifle.

… - …

"Surely, you're not suggesting that anyone is going to attack you, Mr. Potter," goaded Umbridge She had that sickly smile in her face, a bit like a toad, ready to attack a particularly juicy fly. She thought _one more word out of him and I'll land him in detention._

"Actually, I think he has a point," came a response from a most unlikely source.

"And what would that be, Mr. Malfoy?" asked Toadface, angry that her trap for the day had been ruined.

Draco replied, "It's clear from reading the newspapers that there are some very dangerous people out there; wizard and muggle alike. I read in this morning's _Prophet_ that Mundungus Fletcher was stabbed and killed by a street gang in Central London."

"But that's…"

"Correct, Mr. Malfoy," declared Headmaster Dumbledore, who had been disillusioned, sitting quietly in the corner. "Five points for use of an excellent example of a real-life situation. I'm glad that you're encouraging healthy debate in your class, Professor. You must have read about it in the revised employee manual that I passed out just before school began this term. I won't keep you. Keep up the good work."

… - …

Wednesday 8 September

Remus Lupin walked into Gringotts and asked to convert one-hundred galleons into pound notes. The teller gave him fifty ten-pound notes.

Not everyone received the most preferred customer rate. Satisfied with the exchange, he went to get take-away for himself and Sirius.

… - …

Saturday 11 September

"Professor, the curse that you encountered affected your blood, not your skin. While severing your hand, immediately after your encounter with the cursed object, was courageous, it was moot. The cursed blood was probably already up your shoulder. Within a minute, it had coursed throughout your entire body. I don't know of any specific antidote."

He continued, "As your blood weakens, you will have proportionately less energy. Given what I've seen, the degradation will continue to accelerate. To answer your next question, you should have your affairs in order well before the end of the year."

Dumbledore had previously guessed at the information which had just been confirmed to him and gave a resigned reply, "Thank you, Professor Croaker. I shall endeavor to make the best use of my remaining days."

… - …

Monday 13 September

"Hand, Mr. Potter. What is it now? Do you have a question regarding something in the text?"

"No. I just believe that the text that you selected is worthless."

"Are you a Ministry appointed expert, Mr. Potter? What qualifications do you have to make a judgment?"

Harry replied, "Professor Umbridge, Ministers come and go. It's interesting reading history; did you know how many Ministers and Undersecretaries end up being subsequently arrested within a year of leaving office?"

"Detention, Mr. Potter."

Hermione added, "Harry has a point. I wrote Mr. Slinkhard regarding the book that you use for class. He said that it was never his intent that it be used for a main class text; rather supplemental reading. Did _you_ know that, Professor Umbridge?"

"Liar!"

"No, Professor, here is a copy of his note. I sent another to Madam Longbottom of the Board of School Governors."

"Detention, Miss Granger."

Doing her best to hide a smirk, she replied, "Fine, Professor. We'll see you at seven."

After class, Harry asked, "Hermione, why did you goad her like that? It's like you wanted to get detention. Why did you do that?"

"To keep her from having you alone in her office. I don't think she's especially stable right now. Who knows what could happen?"

"We'll find out. Thanks."

… - …

"Yes Miss Granger. How may I help you?"

"I apologize for bothering you so late professor, but I have a question for you."

"Go on."

"Professor McGonagall, if Professor Umbridge was sacked or arrested this week, would there be anyone who could take over, teaching defense?"

"Why-ever would you ask that, Miss Granger?"

"She's having students write lines in detention using a blood quill."

"I see. Are you certain of this?"

Hermione showed her the back of her hand and replied, "Yes, I'm certain and I'm not the only one that she's done this to."

"Please sit, Miss Granger. I'll be just a minute."

McGonagall went to her fireplace, threw in the powder to make a call and said, "Rufus Scrimgeour."

… - …

Two hours later, she was beyond frustrated. Within minutes of her office being searched, Umbridge had been arrested. Now they had no defense instructor for the foreseeable future and Albus was off someplace, again.

ooo ccc ooo

The old scribe was as quiet as he could be as he entered his office. He'd had no idea how many people would write and ask for reprints of a certain photograph.

McGonagall hadn't asked for a copy, which was fine with him. He carefully set the report and an extra bottle of brandy on her desk, thinking that it would come in handy for her in the near future. Besides, he hoped she'd forget about the Offenses against Persons Act that she'd ranted about a few weeks earlier.

Several of his fellow scribes had sent him information about their own reports. Crow was grateful, especially now that the old steel horse was in cosmoline for the winter.

An hour later, McGonagall came in and noticed the report, along with a business card that read, _Pranking a Dark Lord – 10621274_. Her eyes went back to the bottle. She was just thinking that he must be turning over a new leaf when she spotted the red ink dripping from his latest report.

Fearing the worst, she uncorked the brandy. Before she'd raided the glass to her lips, she yelled, "We've discussed product placements, Mr. Crow!"

… - …


	7. The Lesson is Over

**Chapter 7 – The Lesson is Over**

Monday 13 September

As was the all-too-frequent situation- they needed to hire yet another DADA instructor and Dumbledore was gone, yet again, on some errand. Snape was out someplace, so the three heads met in the staff room where Sprout uncapped the half empty Ogdens bottle and poured three not-so-small glasses. She took a sip, surreptitiously waited until Minerva was drinking, and observed, "Well, at least she didn't last long enough to get paid."

McGonagall's snort was the icebreaker that they needed.

Flitwick suggested, "Quinten Trimble is probably available. I ran across him in a pub last week. He wrote several of the better defense school texts that have been used over the years."

Sprout asked, "Does he have any teaching experience? Never mind that, is he evil?"

"Yes, he put on some master-level classes for a few years in the States. No, he's not evil. He refused membership in Dumbledore's order fifteen years ago and Albus took it hard."

"But Albus would never…"

Flitwick cut her off. "He'll give Death Eaters seventy-five chances, and pass on a good man who mocked his _greater good_ ideals in a pub full of people. Minerva, the school's running on reputation and momentum. The Potions, History, Muggle Studies, Divination, and Defense classes have become a joke to anyone who is looking inward."

Sprout added, "Trimble doesn't have to be a member of the bird club to teach. He has to be competent and be willing to transfer knowledge to young people." Minerva reluctantly nodded.

Flitwick closed the conversation saying, "I'll contact him to make sure he's available. Draw up a master level contract and have it ready for Professor Dumbledore to sign."

… - …

Wednesday 15 September

As Dan waited for Sneerwell in the Bronze room in Gringotts, he looked at the map of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley that was hanging on the wall. Knockturn intersected Diagon Alley twice like a hanging U onto Diagon Alley, which generally ran East-West.

The U shaped street had its share of high-traffic areas. An upscale clothing store for children, Borgin and Burkes, an excellent Asian restaurant, a massage parlor, a second hand shop and a very competent potioneer all were very successful businesses. It seemed that those establishments that were near the intersection with Diagon Alley did very well. The truly dodgy ones which gave Knockturn its unsavory reputation tended to be located in the center of the U.

The eastern end of Diagon Alley ended at the Leaky Cauldron, which opened to Charing Cross Road on the nonmagical side. The west end of the alley ended near the Ministry building off Wiliston Road. As the owl flew, Wiliston and Charing Cross were just over a mile apart. With its winding turns it was closer to a two mile walk from end to end.

On the east end, Knockturn intersected Diagon by Gringotts, which was on the north side of Diagon and Fortescue's on the south. The west end emptied out by Ollivander's and a second-hand shop. Dan realized that knowing the layout of the shops along the street was important and took careful notes.

Sneerwell came in and remarked, "Good morning, Dr. Granger. The map you're looking at will prove useful today. We procured the leases, as requested."

Sneerwell pointed to the map and remarked, "The third floor above Fortescue's was available. It was originally used as a store room, then fitted to be a party room above the ice cream shop. Unfortunately, most parents elected to purchase Mr. Fortescue's ice cream on a take-away basis and he stopped renting it out as a party room two years ago. It is fairly spacious and had three windows that open, overlooking Diagon Alley, affording a clear view by Gringotts. Sooner or later everyone visits the bank. It is one of very few three story buildings along the alley. The second floor is primarily used for the ice cream making machinery and is fairly noisy."

He continued, "The difficulty with the location is that there is no independent entrance to the room; rather the stairway is inside the building itself. The ice cream shop is open from nine to six, though he frequently arrives early to start his machinery. The room has two toilets and would be practical to sleep there at night if needed. The room has been leased to a Mr. Dan Waverly, a muggleborn wizard who works as a building architect. As such, if you could procure a few additional blueprints from the Bullworth contractor trailer, not related to your strip mall, and leave them out, it would look convincing in the event that the Mr. Fortescue ever stopped up to visit."

"That sounds very workable," replied Dan.

Sneerwell pointed to the map again and said, "The apparition point most commonly used is on the street, fairly near the front of the Gringotts marble stairs. Most of the visitors along that area are there from nine to three, Monday through Saturday."

Sneerwell added, "It is important to remember that your portkey can be activated from that room. Since you do not own the building, or have a long-term lease, we are unable to add the room as an inbound location to your watch."

Dan commented, "Every government has their own bureaucracy."

Sneerwell replied, "Exactly." They shared a laugh together.

Sneerwell pointed to the map again and said, "The other location is above the second-hand robe shop on the north side of Diagon Alley next to Gambol & Japes. It is a second-floor room of a two story building that has an outside stairway leading directly to the room, with a lockable door. The owner of the robe shop does not live above his building and closes at six. He does not reopen until ten the next morning."

"The room is a simple furnished bedroom with a toilet. It has a single window that opens. While the peripheral view is not as good as the Fortescue location, its view into Knockturn itself is unmatched. That said, I must caution you not to burn any lights at night; for as you can see, you could be seen."

He continued, "The apparition point is by Borgin & Burkes, on Knockturn itself directly across the street from your room. Looking down Knockturn, you have Borgin and Burkes, the Wingless Dragon, with excellent Asian cuisine, and the Happy Ending Massage. The street outside the restaurant is well lit at night, the other two, less so. Your room was leased to Mr. Dan Malloy from New South Wales. A passport is in the envelope with the keys.

"In the other envelope is a collection of photos of witches and wizards that you might encounter or be of interest to you. Their names are listed on the backs. For the ministry employees or legitimate shop owners, their position is also listed. You should note that several of the wizards and one of the witches that might be of interest to you are ministry employees. They are also listed."

Dan replied, "Perfect." He and Ben had discussed that exact issue.

Sneerwell continued, "Regarding your other business, we were able to increase your settlement by one hundred and twenty-five thousand pounds by accepting a fixed two-year loss of wage on the keyman insurance for Dr. Granger. Additionally, we were able to negotiate the purchase of the equipment and fixtures that you listed for the surgical suited for ten thousand pounds less than list, based upon cash payment. We also recovered the two years left on your prepaid lease for the Buckswood facility and applied that to the five-year prepaid lease on the Crawley strip mall facility. The remaining one hundred and eight thousand pounds will be due six months after initial occupancy - 31 March of 1996."

Amazed at the offer, Dan replied, "That's three thousand pounds a month. We were paying almost five thousand at Buckswood and Crawley Ave. will be a better location."

Sneerwell gave a sort of smirk and observed, "We have better negotiators." He concluded, "Dr. Granger's care at the St. Michaels facility is being fully paid by your insurance company. It is fortunate that you purchased a very comprehensive business owner's package of insurance."

Dan admitted, "Emma handled all of that."

Sneerwell added, "It is our hope that the British wizarding world will be a safer place when she awakens next year. If you have no other business today, I'll return to my counter."

"Thank you."

… - …

Saturday 18 September

Harry was flying close to a hundred miles an hour as he chased the snitch. Warrington knew the shot was all but futile, as Potter had a fifty foot lead on Malfoy. He swung the bat as hard as he could and aimed the bludger at the Gryffindor.

Unfortunately, he didn't lead him enough and the iron bludger broke Harry's Firebolt in two, just above the bristles. Hermione screamed as Harry was now flying a stick, at a very steep angle. "_Arresto momentum_," cried Susan, who always had her wand out at games.

Despite Susan's best efforts, Harry struck the packed sand surface hard, face first as he slid to a stop, proving the old adage that asphalt is the world's fastest tattoo remover. His teammates rushed to him. Draco caught the snitch moments later.

Harry's forehead was a bloody mess. All of the skin had been scraped off from the top of his head to his eyebrows. Madam Hooch flew over with the first aid kit and wrapped Harry's forehead with a thick gauze bandage. He was stretchered into the Hospital Wing.

When Madam Pomfrey took the bandage off of him, she was surprised to see as much smelly black pus as blood. She cleaned the area carefully with a strong disinfectant, noting that his famous scar had been completely scraped off. When she was finished, she applied a healing ointment, lightly wrapped the area and told him, "You _will_ lie there, not move, and not talk, for half an hour. Are we clear about that, Mr. Potter?"

Harry winked at her.

She smiled and said, "You cheeky monk." He really was her favorite patient. She added, "I'll let your two friends in within the hour."

As had become his habit of late, the Headmaster was out of the castle, doing something. Since Harry wasn't hurt, she'd just write up the usual student report. While it was required, she had legitimate doubts that he even looked at them

… - …

Some four-hundred and forty miles away, in a musty room, a hundred feet or so below the ground was a room with rows and rows of glass orbs. In the ninety-third row, one of the globes slowly darkened until it was no longer the smoky-white glass globe that it had been for nearly sixteen years. Something happened and within a minute, the glass globe had turned to an obsidian black stone.

At the edge of a room sat an open book; a book that had been on that table for hundreds of years. Writing on the book appeared – _10775872 Invalid – no longer applies_. However, no one was looking at the book, or even had the responsibility to periodically check on the book – another of Fudge's _cost saving measures_ had been in place for three months now.

… - …

As her turn in his bi-weekly staff meeting came up, Fudge asked, "Amelia, did you have anything today?"

She casually replied, "Not much. The interrogation of our most recent prisoner is providing us some useful information for an upcoming investigation."

Less than half-interested, Fudge asked, "Who is the prisoner?"

Amelia casually replied, "Someone that you might remember, Minister. Dolores Umbridge. Dolores was arrested late Monday evening. She was charged with four counts of torturing students with the use of a Ministry regulated device – a blood quill."

"She would never…"

"She did. She bragged how the little lying brats deserved it. We found quills with blood still on them and have photos of the students' hands. Just to be safe, we have extra guards at the holding cell to prevent witness tampering."

Amos asked, "Who is teaching defense?"

Lucius replied, "Quinten Trimble. He's written several of the better defense textbooks that have been used in the past. My son advised me that all of the students seem to like him."

Fudge asked, "What about the books Dolores picked…?"

Amelia replied, "Minister, Professor Dumbledore properly used money from the scholarship fund and everyone had new books by Wednesday."

"He can't…"

Lucius replied, "Minister, he's doing his job. Now that he doesn't have three jobs, he seems to be doing well at the one that he has." He was of the opinion that the old professor could do far less damage in the halls of the castle than the Wizengamot floor and wanted him to stay there.

"I see."

… - …

After the meeting, Fudge asked, "So what do you want, Director?"

"The penalty for what she did to torture those kids is six months in Azkaban - each."

There was silence for nearly a minute.

Amelia decided to go first. "_What I want_ are twelve additional Auror positions authorized, your public statement that Cedric Diggory was murdered by Death Eaters, and a non-revocable offer to a trial for Sirius Black."

She cut him off, before he could begin his bluster, "_What I'll accept_ are four Auror positions, the non-revocable offer for a trial for Sirius Black; postured to correct an old injustice, not caused by you, and a public statement that Cedric Diggory was murdered by unknown terrorists."

"And Dolores goes free?"

"And Dolores serves her four sentences concurrently, rather than consecutively. Once Black gets his trial, Connie will accidently vanish the original and all copies of this week's interview. As a show of good faith, the request for your bank records will be cancelled."

There was silence.

"Done. Basil Debit in accounting will receive the headcount authorizations on Monday."

"Enjoy your day, Minister."

… - …

Wednesday 22 September

The two men practiced again with the pistol and the rifle and used the nicknames Fred and Lyle that the old sergeant had given them.

Forming an odd sniper-spotter team, Ben seemed better suited for the rifle. While they were about equal in the relatively close ranges that they were expecting, the younger man handled the pistol, with its formidable recoil with much greater ease. Neither man spoke of the probability that Ben would do all or most of the actual shooting, given that arrangement. Ben preferred it that way and Dan didn't object. However, both men knew that they could be spotted and the pistol could see a share of the action in an instant. Dan's job was to keep them from being overwhelmed or captured.

Earlier, Ben had observed, "The only time we'll ever need to fire the pistol is if we get spotted and things go pear shaped in a hurry. If that happens, it'd be better for the both of us if you're manning the pistol. I can't seem to get the hang of two or three quick shots." That said, they agreed on their respective roles.

Few words were spoken between them as they carefully cleaned their equipment in preparation for what they had rationalized as the next day's hunt.

… - …

Thursday 23 September

Nick Straighthand had been the butt of many jokes over the years. Accepted into the Auror Corps during the desperate recruiting months early in 1980, when the trainees of the day were given three months of on-the-job training before being turned loose on the streets, Straighthand had somehow survived. Objectively, that was in no way a credit to his training or skills; rather a run of luck that would have struck fear into the hearts of Las Vegas casinos.

After the chaos of the war had died down, it became apparent that Straighthand was the Barney Fife of the Auror squad. Like the television character, Straighthand was _zealous about law enforcement, regularly spouting off penal codes and ordinances to thugs and jaywalkers alike._ Straighthand was smug and self-confident, even though it had become apparent that he'd never possess the skills to back up his self-image.

While he carried the _self-assessed_ self-image of a Master Hit-Wizard, ready to confront crime wherever it might appear, Straighthand _was_ remarkably skilled at paperwork. Anna and Connie frequently worked with him; filing or retrieving evidence and reports. He tirelessly filled in the supply requests and copied them in triplicate for filing. Out of concern for the safety of the other Aurors and Hit Wizards his superiors had eventually coached his way into Administration and Supply.

Yet the Hit Wizard self-image never completely subsided. As such, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, when he didn't have meetings to attend, Nick spent his lunch hour walking up and down along the half-mile stretch along Diagon Alley between Wiliston, next to the Ministry building and the western edge of Knockturn.

… - …

Katheryn and Conrad Parkinson were, by any measurement, wealthy people. The Parkinson family had always had money, yet when Conrad was in school in the years following WWII; his parents were unwilling to give him more than an ordinary student's share of spending money. That was completely unacceptable to Conrad, who had begun dating Katheryn. She was an intelligent girl of exceptional beauty; tall, thin, busty, with a perfectly formed face and expensive taste.

Together, they solved their liquidity problem through the means of transfiguring several ordinary food items, into synthetic cocaine, that they referred to as wingjam.

Virtually indistinguishable from the Central American version, they would make a batch from time to time and sell it, usually through Mundungus Fletcher . As the uncouth seller of anything that would earn him a sickle had recently come to an unfortunate end at the hands of a gang of muggle thugs, Kathryn had wanted to try selling the twelve pounds of uncut powder to Borgin and Burkes, who, in fact, had been one of Fletcher's better customers.

At their home in Port Talbot, Katheryn carefully filled the baby diaper bag with twelve one pound plastic bags of wingjam. She zipped up the bag, put on her traveling cloak, put the bag over her shoulder and they apparated away.

… - …

One of the law enforcement lessons that Straighthand missed was that confrontation can occasionally escalate to violence at an explosive speed. They reappeared at the intersection of Diagon and Knockturn, almost on top of Straighthand, who had been scanning the area for signs of criminal activity. Startled, Nick shouted, "What's you two doing? What's you got there?"

Katheryn drew first and cast a slashing hex at Straighthand who would have been clearly headless Nick if her aim had been lower. Nick fired _Percutio_, the piercing hex, which bored a clean hole through the baby bag, but missed the woman.

Conrad, who had been thinking about anything besides the bumbling Auror, took a few seconds to get his wand out of his cloak pocket and cast, "_Avada Kedavra_."

_Pfft._ Just as the killing curse was forming on Parkinson's wand, Ben fired, hitting the man in the upper chest.

As Conrad was slumping to the ground, Nick and Kathryn respectively cast a piercing hex and a slashing hex at the same time. Both of their spells were powerful and both aims were true. Seconds later, the overexcited Auror and the drug dealers were dead in the street. Her bag had broken open when it hit the ground, and white powder was everywhere.

Five seconds later, the two Aurors who were normally assigned to patrol the alleys saw the bodies and ran flat out to the scene. They didn't notice a window on the second floor being quietly closed.

Two minutes later, with the inside of the room cleaned up and the equipment put away, the two men on the second floor portkeyed away.

… - …

When they'd portkeyed to at Dan's back garden, Ben asked, "What the hell was that?" Four hours of waiting patiently had climaxed with ten seconds of madness.

Dan replied, "It appears that Conrad and Kathryn Parkinson were drug dealers as well as murderers." He thought to himself_, It was like a scene out of Miami Vice._

Taking a few calming breaths, Ben added, "They're pretty skilled at killing each other."

Dan asked, "You hit Conrad?"

Ben replied, "Square on; about the same time that the woman and the Auror killed each other. Let's get a drink."

Dan felt relieved, exhilarated, and ready to puke - all at once.

Justified that they'd stopped a cop killer, they had that drink.

… - …

Connie and Anna were immediately called to the scene. Anna methodically took a dozen photos. The outcome was fairly evident. Connie carefully bagged and tagged the three wands as well as the broken baby bag of drugs. She noted that the bag was embroidered with the name Pansy

Connie asked Auror Bob Sunset and his young partner, Alyx, "What did you see?"

Bob replied, "We heard a shout from Straighthand, a few seconds of spellfire. We saw a jet of green light and ran here as fast as we could. Nick and those two were down, with this white powder splattered all over."

Connie asked, "What did you see, Alyx?"

She replied, "About the same. These two were dead when we got here. Bob looked at Nick for a moment, but he must have died in Bob's arms. I sent the Patronus and you two got here just a few minutes later."

Connie asked, "What do you think happened?"

Bob answered, "Nick walks this route twice a week on his lunch hour. He must have either stumbled on these two, or surprised them, as it's right on the apparition point. Somehow they traded curses and three people are dead."

Connie asked, "Did either of you see any witnesses?"

Bob replied, "There may have been someone who saw something, but by the time we were even with the restaurant, they'd scurried away like rats."

Connie admitted, "I didn't think there'd have been someone standing outside of Borgin and Burkes looking at them, but I always ask. Can you take these two back to the morgue? We'll file the evidence."

Alyx replied, "Will do."

… - …

Six hours and a third of a bottle later, both men had puked. Ben blamed it on the fish. While they both regretted having to take a life, Ben was equally regretful that he hadn't been faster and that a law enforcement officer had been killed in the line of duty. Ben went up to Harry's room to rest. His last thought before going to sleep was _three down_.

Dan wasn't so fortunate. Burning buildings and broken glass filled his dreams.

ooo ccc ooo

What sort of house colors are orange and black? Where are you going?"

YouTube

Crow found that he had several questions for his fellow scribes – 1) Was Umbridge's quill an item of her making or something that was acquired from the goblins? 2) Aside from Lucius (who had already been kicked off by 1994) are there any canon members of the board of governors? Too much shine had clouded his memory. The old scribe didn't remember.

Since the old crone wasn't around to ask, Crow set his report and a carefully written card on the table. It read 10502539 How-many-witches-and-wizards-are-there?

… - …

Actual Author Note: On YouTube, consider looking up Delisle Carbine. There are a handful of videos. The seven minute one from _Military Arms Channel_ is excellent. Try setting your speaker volume, so the instructor's voice is at a normal volume. Then go step into the next room and see if you can still hear the rifle.

To quote little Ami, my first reaction was Holy Crap! Six hours after watching it, this little story had been sketched out.

… - …


	8. Weekend Plans

**Chapter 8 - Weekend Plans**

Thursday 23 September

Albus Dumbledore spotted the Gringotts owls carrying the black Death Notice envelopes first. While they'd been far too common a sight during Tom's first rise to power, they had become a rare occurrence in the thirteen years since. With the resurgence of Voldemort and his followers, Dumbledore knew that it was only a matter of time – months at the outside, or weeks in the more likely case before one of the Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs were visited. He only knew that this war was not his to finish. His time was now measured in days, rather than years, or decades.

Draco had a sick feeling in his stomach. Potter's words about a school full of orphans sitting in every table had hit him hard. He silently wondered whose childhood had forever been altered.

The owls circled the open air of the Great Hall once and landed on the table, directly in front of Pansy Parkinson. Dumfounded, the blond teen initially refused the owls, "No. Get away. It's a mistake. Go away. No. It can't. It can't. Can't. No." Tears streamed down her face.

For nearly a minute there was silence in the Great Hall as Snape took the letters in one hand and the stunned teen in the other and walked her out to go to his office.

It took the loud-mouth ginger that long to get his mouth half-empty before he spat out, "Finally; a slimy snake got what's coming to them."

Minerva was apoplectic with anger. "Mr. Weasley, not another word, _ever_. You will explain to your parents what you just said." She hauled him out by his ear.

Moments later, it looked certain that a fight would erupt when Harry stood and said, "Stay quiet, Ron. People will only _think_ that you're a witless fool."

Those words, coming from Harry, seemed to be enough to satisfy most of the Slytherins.

Needless to say, no one came to Ron's defense. He was sent home for a week.

Dumbledore initially was going to dismiss the students by house, but with the tension all but eliminated, let things be. A part of him wanted to admonish Harry for lashing out at his former friend, but the results had been so effective that he couldn't find fault in the teen's words.

… - …

Friday 24 September

The day after the Parkinson's deaths, Dan visited Emma at her room in the St. Michaels long-term care facility. Quietly begging her forgiveness, he held his wife, desperately wishing that his anchor in life would be there for him.

In his quiet confession to her, Dan came to realize that every one of the Death Eaters were criminals; were killers. By the time that he'd left his dear wife for the day, the only regret that was on his conscience was that they hadn't acted quicker and that an honest Auror had been killed in the line of duty.

He kissed her on the forehead and whispered, "We'll get 'em, Emma. We'll get 'em. Please come back soon. I love you." He placed a rose on her bed. It was their eighteenth wedding anniversary.

… - …

Monday 27 September

Pansy had been gone for the weekend, helplessly observing the forced sale of her parents' estate and the end of her childhood. At breakfast Draco asked, "So what happened?"

"Bad timing, I suppose. They must have apparated almost on top of an Auror. Things got out hand and they started casting spells. Mum had made a batch of that stupid powder and was trying to sell it."

Draco nodded and she continued, "The goblins assessed the estate for more than I'd ever heard from Dad. The muggle government seized half, the ministry took a cut and the goblins took a cut. Then the estate auctioned for less than they'd promised. I ended up with just over a million and some expensive furniture that I can't use. So how was your weekend?"

"Not that bad. Are you saying Fudge did nothing to help?"

She shook her head; tears welling in her eyes. It wasn't just the money; she really loved her parents. "They put most of the gold into a trust account until I'm seventeen. I don't know what I'll do next year. I just don't know…"

Draco was only half listening to her. Potter's words, _It's not much fun being an orphan_ kept ringing in his ears.

… - …

Tuesday 5 October

Dan and Ben had spent yet another day above Fortescue's, people watching for six hours. They had been on post Thursdays and Saturdays since their initial success with the Parkinsons to no avail.

As they walked back into Dan's home, Ben quipped, "At least we weren't standing out in this rain all day."

Dan nodded as he unlocked the door. Just as they were going to walk in, Hedwig flew from the branch that she'd been sitting on and flew inside. He observed, "Harry has one smart owl. What do you have, Hedwig?"

Hedwig held out her leg in disgust. _This one never offers me anything,_ she thought. _I miss flying to the other one. _She would have flown off, except that she knew that her Harry would be disappointed if she didn't bring something back.

The evening arrival of Hedwig was always a boost for Dan. Harry and Hermione were now writing almost twice the number of notes that they had they previous year. He opened the letter, while the snowy owl waited patiently for his reply.

_Dad,_

_School's going well. Harry broke his broom a few weeks ago in a quidditch match and he got banged up a bit, but was back in class the next day. His replacement arrived yesterday. I'll let him tell you about it._

_Tell us how things are going at the new clinic. Is it the same size as the old space? Do you like the location better? When will you reopen? Is Ami able to keep up?_

_Everything else is OK here. There was a staff change a few weeks ago, that's still getting worked out._

_Love you so much. Give Mum a kiss,_

_Hermione_

At the bottom of the page, Harry had written

_Dan,_

_School is going much better the last few weeks. I ordered a new boom and the man who made it stopped out to deliver it. I flew it a bit while he was there and he said it was working as well as any that he'd ever made. We celebrated Hermione's birthday. She had fun._

_Are you still spending time with Grandpa Ben? Say 'hi' from us. He's a cool dude. H and I think it's great that you two have connected again._

_The first Hogsmeade weekend is this Saturday. It will be nice to get out of the castle for a while and walk around. It felt a bit confining this term – especially when my broom was broken and with all of the rain._

_Hope all is well with you. Kiss Mum for both of us. Miss you both,_

_Harry_

Dan showed Ben the note when he got back from picking up take-away for their dinner.

Ben read it, smiled at the part that mentioned him, looked at Dan and smirked, "_Cool Dude_. Not bad."

Dan was happy that his father-in-law had connected so well with Harry. Prior to the attack, Harry had only seen him a few times – always missing him for trivial reasons - at the Weasleys for the wrong week after second year, at school, over to see their old defense professor. The timing never seemed to work.

Ben read the note again and observed, "If those morons were looking for a bit of payback, all of those kids walking around would be a juicy target."

Dan agreed, but observed, "It's a big drive to this Hogsmeade. I've never been there. All I know is that the castle is by Inverness."

Ben had and replied, "My Gran took me there a few of times when I was a boy. We took a crazy bus there once."

Dan replied, "Harry mentioned that; the Knight Bus. What did he say? You hold out your wand and it appears. Lucky us - we just happen to have a wand available."

Ben remarked, "It'd probably get us there in a half hour; an hour tops."

Dan replied, "Perfect. That would be better than driving most of the night or finding out that there isn't an inn there. Besides, we really don't want to be seen there."

Ben nodded in agreement and added, "Hand me the little map that your goblin buddy gave you." He looked at it and the memories from his childhood came flooding back. He pointed to the west end of the map and remarked, "The castle is about a mile on the other side of that little train station. It's maybe a quarter-mile to the edge of Hogsmeade. The Three Broomsticks is a popular pub with the kids. A few doors down, there's a post office then more shops them at the other end, there's a scuzzy old pub, a book shop and a nice restaurant, the Flying Horse."

Dan observed, "The kids have mentioned the Three Broomsticks a few times. That's where our room is. That's exactly where we don't want the kids."

Ben agreed, "But we can't exactly tell them to stay cooped up at the castle."

"Then what?"

Ben replied, "Harry's sweet on that girl that Hermione spends time with, that Susan Bones. Tell him to quit wasting time wandering around and make a reservation for three at that nice place, the Flying Horse. Better yet, give him fifty quid and he'll do it for sure. That'll put them away from the morons."

"Ben, he's got money."

"I know, but since lunch is on you, he'll feel obligated to take the two girls. Suggest that he make a reservation at half eleven for the three of them. Better give him a hundred. He'll be out of the way and who knows; he might get lucky."

"He's fifteen."

"And your point is? Hermione being there will keep 'em from getting too far along. How old were you? Never mind, I really don't want to know." He looked at Dan and rubbed his eyes before smiling at his son-in-law.

"It's the best plan that we have."

"Well, write 'em back. Here girl, have a bite of this while he finds a pen."

Hedwig accepted the morsel and thought, _Hmm, tastes like chicken. At least this one has some manners._

… - …

Wednesday 6 October

Screwing up his courage, Harry told himself that he'd just have to do it, today. He fretted about it during transfiguration, and silently rehearsed his lines during runes. Finally lunch time arrived and she walked over to have lunch with him, asking, "May I sit here, good sir."

Harry replied, "Please join me. Um Sue, would you like to have lunch with Hermione and me on Saturday? Like a date?"

_Finally_, thought Hermione, who was sitting a few people away, trying not to be too obvious that she was listening to every word_. At least Susan won't have to conk him on the head and drag him back to her cave._

Susan beamed at him and replied, "Harry, I'd love to. Shall we meet at nine?"

"Yes, please?"

"Three Broomsticks?"

"Actually, Grandpa Ben suggested the Flying Horse, if that's OK?"

Susan replied, "It sounds wonderful, Harry." She kissed him on the cheek and asked, "Did he really suggest the Flying Horse?"

"Yes. He told me to make a reservation and everything. He's fun. I'm glad to have finally got to know him a bit."

Surprised, Susan asked, "Why didn't you meet him when Hermione's parents first adopted you?"

Harry replied, "I'm not sure what really started it, but Hermione started having accidental magic when she was little and apparently they pulled away to hide it. The ironic thing is Ben's mum was a witch, so he grew up knowing about the magical world. His parents pulled away when he didn't show signs or later get a letter and his mum died just after the war. Emma never knew, so it was all pretty much one big misunderstanding."

She smiled at him, squeezed his hand and replied, "Hermione should check with Mafalda Hopkirk. They might have gone to class together. I've gotta run; Herbology's in ten minutes. Have a good afternoon." She gave her bum a suggestive wiggle, knowing that he was watching.

"You too, and thanks."

… - …

A few hours later, Riddle called all of the Death Eaters. Binks, the elf had put out decanters of wine, whiskey and fine food. Riddle acted the host and invited everyone to get a drink and something to eat. He let them congregate for fifteen minutes, while he had Binks side-along several of the wives, who were unmarked, and two others. While they were arriving, he quietly sat in a chair and let them chat while he observed them. Finally when the last person arrived, he stood and directed everyone to sit down.

When he had everyone's attention, he announced, "This Saturday, we will repatriate our imprisoned faithful. To aid in our endeavor, Michelle Edgecombe will procure one of the portkey chains and substitute this ordinary chain in its place. You will bring it home tomorrow after work. Someone will be by at seven to pick it up. You may go."

Binks side-alonged her back to Diagon Alley.

Riddle continued, "Pius, you will do what you can to have as many of the on-duty Aurors as possible watching Knockturn Alley. Perhaps you received information that someone replaced the Parkinsons in the wingjam distribution business, and they were going to be in Knockturn between eleven and one during the day on Saturday."

Thicknesse looked like he wanted to ask something, but Riddle added, "I'm trying to avoid as much bloodshed as possible." He gave the Hitwizard Captain a look that declared the matter wasn't up for debate.

Thicknesse asked, "Is there anything else?"

"No. You may go." A moment later, he was gone.

When he had left, Riddle announced, "The following people will be assigned to Diagon Alley;

"Alecto and Amycus Carrow, Henry and Betty Crabbe, Fran and Vickie Flint, Marcus Flint, Gary Gibbon, and Thorfinn Rowle."

He added, "Your job is to hold the Aurors in the alley from 12:00 until 12:12 and not get hurt. Stay by the apparition points. Alecto and Amycus, hold the east entrance for five minutes and slip away unseen. If you have the opportunity to set fire to the dragon hide shop next to Flourish and Blotts, we could ensure that it wasn't used against us in the future, but that is only a target of opportunity - the same with Malkin's. The primary objective is to make an appearance, hold the Aurors there for a few minutes _and not get hurt_. He gave Lucius the briefest of looks and added, "Thorfinn, you are in charge of the specific assignments."

After a few seconds he asked, "Are there questions?"

Fran Flint asked, "What should our response be when engaged by the Aurors?"

Riddle's vision was that they were attempting to create a diversion to keep the Aurors from reinforcing Azkaban. Thus, he was more interested in perceived rather than actual presence. He replied, "Fire a few _incendios_, yell that the giants are coming and disparate to the other apparition point. Do the same there, and then leave. They won't dare send the Aurors that are on site anywhere else."

They seemed satisfied with their assignment.

The unspoken message was that they represented his most expendable followers. Of the nine that he would send, he would be satisfied if six returned unharmed.

"The Hogsmeade objective will be accomplished by Peter Avery, Tom and Alice Avery, Peter Nott, Wolfred and Sally Nott, and Donna Goyle"

Again his vision was to create a diversion, but in this case, he wanted his followers to also flex their muscles. Knowing that there would be two aurors there with little chance of reinforcement, he added, "Your objective is to engage the two Aurors that would be on duty there - engage, cripple or kill. Your secondary goal is to hold Hogsmeade for twenty minutes; from 12:00 until 12:20. There is no need to destroy any property needlessly. Should significant reinforcements arrive, disperse and leave. Should the Gryffindors prove bothersome, cast some hexes that they won't soon forget. You'll want to use the Shrieking Shack as your initial rally point and when in town, center yourselves in front of the Three Broomsticks for maximum fear impact. Do not injure any Slytherin students."

He let the instructions settle in for nearly a minute and asked, "Are there any questions?"

Goyle's widow asked, "What about Dumbledore?"

"I expect that he will be running his bird club meeting; most likely listening to Arthur Weasley's harpy wife complain that her daughter isn't betrothed to Harry Potter. By the time that he could return, you'll be gone."

With the exception of the wives, Riddle hoped that all of these followers would return. They represented some of the Wizengamot seats that he needed to control in order to make legitimate changes. He didn't expect any real resistance from the students and felt that seven on two odds verses the Aurors wouldn't be a problem.

After the noise had quieted down again, he continued, "The rest of you will accompany me to Azkaban."

"Severus, you and Lucius will liberate our followers from the third and fourth floors. Give them wands and strengthening potions. Specifically, you're looking for the Lestranges."

They both nodded and he continued. "Yaxley and Macnair will liberate our followers from the second floor. You're looking for Agustus Rookwood and Rosier's daughter, if she lives. Severus can provide a memory to aid you in recognizing her."

They nodded and he went on, "Selwyn and Scaboir will be with me, keeping the Warden company, and entertaining anyone that might be with him."

There was laughter, knowing what his _entertainment_ usually entailed. Fortunately for them, their wives never got involved with Voldemort or the Death Eaters' darker activities.

"Finally, Mulciber and Jugson will offer the prisoners on the first floor the option of joining us. You should expect some opposition from the small contingent of Aurors stationed on the island. They are much likelier to be in the lower levels, than up higher. Kill them, or keep them occupied for fifteen minutes, then return to the Warden's office, where we will all leave from."

He gave them a minute to think, and then asked, "Any questions?"

Selwyn asked, "My Lord, what of the Dementors?"

Riddle responded, "At this point, they will neither help us, nor harm us."

Malfoy asked, "But how?"

"Lucius, surely you didn't believe that I've spent the last three months here, doing nothing but sampling your excellent hospitality?"

"Of course not, my Lord."

He concluded, "To all of you, do not stay longer than your allotted time. We cannot discount the bird club, or the off duty Aurors for too long. Peter and Narcissa will have a guest here from St. Mungo's to aid us, should anyone become injured. We will meet here at 11:00 AM on Saturday."

… - …

Thursday 7 October

"Mr. Malfoy."

"Yes, Professor?"

"Find yourself in detention this weekend."

"Yes, Professor."

"You may go now."

… - …

Snape went back to his quarters and looked around. He reflected on his options for less than a minute and realized that the time had come to get off of the fence. He gathered up a few valuables such as expensive potions, his moneybag and his vault key. He left the rest in case he was wrong and had more options than he'd imagined.

Though the old man had never actually said so, Severus felt that Dumbledore's remaining days were measured in double digits. Therefor the potions master didn't have the complication or option of serving, or be protected by two masters.

Snape believed if he were to return to the castle, it would be in the role of occupation army head master. Quietly walking out the door, he deposited his valuables at his home on Spinner's End.

ooo ccc ooo

The old scribe left a note on McGonagall's desk. The last time he'd stopped by, he'd dropped off a purchase requisition for 100 body bags. Unfortunately, his quill had smudged the parchment and she'd read it as him calling her a 100 year-old bag.

Crow left the room, hoping that someday his hair would grow back.

McGonagall looked at her chalk board and saw that he'd doodled _10070079 Arithmancer_. Perhaps Professor Vector would have better insight.

Author note- A guest remarked that canon Susan is not an orphan until book 6. I don't recall that her parents were ever really mentioned in the books. Not that it will affect this tale, but did I actually miss that part?

For those in the States, Happy Thanksgiving.

… - …


	9. Threads

**Chapter 9 - Threads**

Saturday 9 October

At 7Am, Lucius met Riddle in the North Wing study and suggested, "My Lord, after our certain victory today, we should have a celebration prepared."

"So certain of yourself, Lucius - were you not this confident a month ago? What's different? There is always the element of chance in battle."

"True, my Lord, but you have created an excellent plan; far better than my own meagre effort. Three simultaneous attacks is an inspired plan, my Lord."

"What do you want me to say yes to, Lucius? Do you wish to torture some young women within earshot of your wife?"

"Not a Revel, as in the old days; rather we should enact a recruiting drive. My thought was to recruit a handful or two of those who finished Hogwarts in the last year or two and have either Bella or Rookwood train them. Some might become better fighters than those that stand faithful with you now, while other might be better suited to either infiltrate the Ministry or become ward breakers."

"You have given me something that I can happily say yes to. Also, it will be time for the other established families to pay their share. There is much to do, and many of our needs come at a cost. You may take your leave."

… - …

**Harry's thread**

At half ten, as they were walking along the road past the train station towards Hogsmeade, Susan said, "Thanks for inviting me along, Harry and Hermione. This should be fun."

Hermione admitted, "It wasn't my idea, it was lover boy here – maybe with a little push from our Grandpa Ben."

Harry asked, "Can we stop in at Rosmerta's for a sec? Seamus told me that they sell butterbeers by the case and deliver. I won't be a minute."

Susan replied, "We've got plenty of time. It's only half ten. We'll be across the road, seeing what new flavors they have. I'll buy dessert after lunch."

… - …

Harry returned a minute later. Hermione observed, "That was quick."

He agreed, "Yes, she had the forms already filled out. I just wrote down my name and gave her three galleons."

"Harry, isn't that a bit much? That's eight sickles more than she usually charges."

Harry replied, "I suppose, but I didn't want to lug them around all day and it's not like we can just stop in at the local Tesco market, ask for twenty-four butterbeers, and put them in the boot of Dan's car."

They laughed at the image.

Hermione suggested, "Let's go in that second-hand shop across from the post office."

Susan asked, "What are you looking for?"

Hermione replied, "Your Aunt mentioned that second-hand wands don't have the trace on them."

The strawberry blond replied, "True, but they're usually loads more expensive than a new one."

Harry remarked, "That's usually about the opposite of anything else that's you'd buy. How much do you think they'd cost?"

Susan suggested, "Let's go see. I'd guess forty to fifty galleons each."

Hermione remarked, "That doesn't sound bad. Mr. Ollivander charged me forty-two."

Harry recalled, "He charged me seven."

Susan added, "I paid eight."

Hermione huffed, "That's not fair."

Harry thought, _Where have we heard that before? _Wisely, he said nothing.

Susan said, "Let's go in and look."

… - …

"Harry, can I borrow?"

He replied, "Don't worry about it."

… - …

"Three for forty? He wanted to charge me fifty for one!"

Susan quipped, "Hermione, some days it pays to be Harry Potter."

Harry observed, "All three of these worked for me. That's weird."

Hermione asked, "What's weird?"

He replied, "I must have tried forty wands at Mr. Ollivander's before I found one that worked."

Susan added, "I tried three. They all worked OK, but this one felt the best."

Hermione said, "I was about the same – tried three. One did nothing, the other was OK and my vinewood one was easily the best."

Harry held the three purchased wands in his hand and said, "I'll keep this one. You two should pick the other two and keep the best for each of you."

Susan playfully asked, "So, should I tell all the witches back in the dorm that Harry Potter gave me his wand?"

Hermione chuckled, while Harry got red-faced. She replied, "Actually, I don't think we should tell anyone. Let's look for wrist holsters after lunch."

… - …

At half eleven, they finally had reached the far end of the street, as they'd stopped several times along the way. Outside, the Flying Horse looked fairly ordinary. Built after most of the neighboring buildings, it was designed to fit in. Inside were dozen walled booths; each with a different magical window. The display windows by the front entrance showed the available windows and the associated menus. One was a view of Mt. Fuji, one pictured Mt. Rushmore, another was marked Bondi Beach. Susan said "That one has the Eiffel Tower. Look at that one. It says Brazil. That one says Key West. Can we try that one?"

They walked to the waiter, who in a cheery voice said, "Good morning, Ladies and Sir. My name is Jamie. Welcome to the Flying Horse." Looking at the reservation sheet, then Harry, he added, "You must be Mr. Potter. Did you have a preference of views today?"

Harry looked at his companions, who nodded and he replied, "We'd like to try the Key West view, please."

Jamie replied, "Key West – a very popular choice. Follow me please. Ladies, Sir."

As they were seated at one of private booths, Jamie tapped the window to display Key West. Hermione immediately asked, "How does this work?"

"The view that you choose determines the menu and of course what you see, remarked Jamie. Touch the beverages button and a choice of a choice of beverages will be displayed at the bottom. When you're ready to order, touch the ones that you'd like and they will be delivered shortly. When you're ready to order food, do the same with the food button. Your food will be made by a chef in Key West and delivered at your table within a few minutes. Same with the beverages, except they don't take as long to get delivered".

Hermione replied, "So we're getting food made in South Florida and delivered here in just a few minutes. How do you do it? What about time zone differences? Are they real-time or simulations? What about…"

Jamie replied, "Well… magic, of course."

Harry replied, "Cool."

Susan added, "Beyond cool. This is brilliant. Thank you for taking me here. I've never seen anything like it. Connie and Anna would really like this place."

Hermione gave a soft _hrmmph_, that her questions weren't answered, but admitted that it really was a fantastic idea for a restaurant. With a devilish look in her eye, she quietly observed, "I suppose if we really were there, we'd be in the smallest of bikinis and we'd make you rub lotion all over our bodies to keep us from burning."

Harry smirked and asked, "All over?"

Susan took his hand in hers, held it to her cheek and said, "Here," then to the back of her neck and said, "Here," then she had him touch her arms and stomach and said, "Here."

She went a little higher and Harry gulped, "There too?"

She innocently asked, "You wouldn't want me to sunburn _there_, would you?"

Harry's heart was racing, while Hermione was biting her entire hand to keep from laughing. Finally she said, "You'd better not give him any other ideas, he might explode."

Soft local music started playing and Harry wisely suggested, "We should order." They ordered their food, which was surprisingly inexpensive and something called planter's punch, which looked fruity.

Just a few minutes later, Jamie walked back with their food – hamburgers, french fries, crab cakes and something called gator bites to share; along with a teenage version of the popular fruit drink.

The sounds of the surf and the local music in the background were mesmerizing. They split another of the planter's punches; though the second one tasted a bit different than the first.

… - …

It had been a perfect lunch. At one, Harry paid the bill and thanked Jamie, promising him that they'd be back again. They opened to door and instead of surf and music, it was a gloomy day. Hermione smelled smoke, pointed up the street and shouted, "Look!"

The roof from the second-hand shop that they'd visited had burned, but was out.

Walking down the street a bit further, they met Amelia's friend, Mr. Croaker, and two others who had gray cloaks on like his, except the hoods were up on theirs. He greeted her, "Ah, there you are, Susan. You must be Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. Professor Sprout was looking for you three."

Susan replied, "We were at the Flying Horse, having lunch."

Croaker replied, "Yes, a very clever place. Well, it turns out that you three were much safer in there than out here." He sent a patronus message and added, "I'm afraid that the outing today has been cut a bit short. All of the students were asked to return to the castle a half hour ago." He made them a portkey, handed it back to her and suggested, "Hold onto this and tap it with your wand. It will take you to the castle gates."

Harry looked at it a bit doubtfully and muttered, "I don't like portkeys."

Croaker admitted, "No, you probably wouldn't but I don't have time to side-along you three back to the castle. It's fine, take it."

Susan smiled at him and replied, "Thank you."

He smiled back at Amelia's ever-friendly niece and said, "Run along, now."

She tapped it and moments later, they were by Hagrid's hut.

… - …

**Fudge's thread**

At five minutes before noon, Fudge and Amos Diggory strolled into the Three Broomsticks with John Dawlish; who was providing security detail.

Madam Rosmerta immediately greeted them and asked, "What can I get you two gentlemen today?"

Fudge replied, "It's nice to see you again, Rosmerta, I'll have a red currant rum."

She replied, "Very good. Amos, how about you?"

He replied, "Everyone else here is having butterbeer. I will too."

As they waited for their drinks, Diggory asked, "Will Pansy be taking over Conrad's family seat in the Wizengamot? She's the last of her line?"

Fudge replied, "Unfortunately not. No, just like the Potter boy, they have to wait until they're seventeen." He added, "Bad business about him and Kathryn – shocking really – selling muggle drugs. Straighthand was fully justified of course, but bad; bad for business. It also changes the balance in the chamber. Makes things unpredictable."

Then the screams started.

… - …

John Dawlish was almost the exact opposite of Nick Straighthand. Whereas everyone liked Nick, but sniggered at his skills, no one wanted to get into a fight with Dawlish. Not having a family of his own, John only had one friend in the world – Cornelius Fudge. They'd struck up an unlikely friendship in school when Fudge was a seventh year and John was a firstie, who was constantly being picked on. Fudge had scared off the third year bullies of the day and casually mentioned to little John, "You'll need to learn to defend yourself."

It had been a lesson that had set the path of the younger man's life. From then on, it had become his focus; seeking extra help from the DADA professors during school and muggle defense classes during the holidays.

Once in the late 70s John, as a young hit wizard had a change to return the favor, and the friendship had been renewed. But that was in the past.

John, who had been looking out the open door, purposefully walked to the table and said, "Problem outside. Walk quickly to the men's room."

As Fudge got up to comply, Amos asked, "What's wrong?"

John replied, "Terrorists."

Amos looked and declared, "Unnamed terrorists, my arse. Those are Death Eaters. They killed my boy. Let's go get 'em."

John replied, "We don't step beyond the door; not today."

… - …

**Bird club thread**

Earlier that morning, at half eleven, Dumbledore was ready to start his meeting at Grimmauld Place. "Thank you for all coming. Today's meeting will be brief, so I can return to the castle. Is there any new business?" He looked at Sirius, wondering what the rant of the day would be.

Black held up a locket, pierced by a goblin fighting dagger for all to see and demanded, "Dumbledore, what the eff _is this_? How many of these things are there? Now that you've lost most of your jobs, you should have some time to figure it out?"

Out of all the things that he'd considered that young Sirius might bring, up a horcrux – a destroyed horcrux wasn't even on the list. He babbled, "Where did you get…?"

"It doesn't matter. Who has a clue how many of these little souvenirs are out there? That's what Harry found, wasn't it? Molly, your daughter was attacked by one of these. Pay attention."

Molly had been ready to light into him for his boorish behavior until he mentioned her Ginny. Now he had her undivided attention.

"Headmaster, some answers about horcruxes, if you please?"

Dumbledore stalled for time and reiterated, "That is a conversation for another day. Our priority remains guarding the prophecy."

Moody disagreed, "SPT to APWBD. Based upon the date, I'd guess that old drunk fraud told you something just before the Potter boy was born. I agree with Sirius; toss a rock at it and we can quit wasting our time. If it's something that he needs to know, tell him this week. He's not a kid anymore, regardless of what you think. Spending hundreds of man hours guarding something that has no value is ridiculous. So where are the other horcruxes?"

Dumbledore sighed, pleased that Severus couldn't make it today and that Mundungus was no longer with them. He replied, "One is likely in one of the Lestrange vaults, another could easily be hidden either in the Chamber of Secrets or squirreled away somewhere in the castle."

Angered that he'd obviously known about these for years, and done nothing, Molly walked out, without saying a word, dragging Arthur with her.

After they'd left, Moody pressed on, "You're much frailer than you present. What happened with the one that you found?"

Dumbledore admitted, "It contained an extra trap that killed me. I just haven't passed on quite yet, though I expect to before the New Year arrives. They must all be destroyed before Tom will be mortal again."

Moody replied, "You need a succession plan that doesn't involve teenagers." As he was walking away he recalled the old adage _It isn't what we don't know that gives us trouble, it's what we know that ain't so._

… - …

Having just received a patronus message, Moody announced, "It's hitting the fan now. You should go to the castle and find your boy. I'll eat Fudge's hat if he's actually there. Lupin should go to Hogsmeade, since the kids would recognize him. I'll go to Diagon Alley."

Unfortunately, neither of the men headed to Scotland could manage more than fifty mile jumps and Black had disconnected his floo.

… - …

**Shooter thread**

As they got off the Knight Bus earlier that morning at half eight, Dan exclaimed, "Four hundred miles an hour on a city bus – aside from a serious case of the woozies, I'm pretty impressed."

Ben remarked, "Me too. Here's the place, the Three Broomsticks. You go find our room and I'll walk off some distances. Ben had practiced walking one yard steps. It was twenty-five steps leading to the intersection of the walkway leading to the shrieking shack; about the same to the nearest building across the street. It was about a quarter mile to the post office and Honeydukes and just over a half mile to the Flying Horse, where they expected Hermione, Harry and Susan to be having lunch.

Dan met Ben in front of the pub, still carrying his blueprint case. They went back through the pub, up the stairs to their room. It was a corner room with a window overlooking the main street and one looking towards the post office. He said, "Harry mentioned that most of the kids congregate downstairs or out by that ice cream shop."

Ben replied, "Hermione, maybe. Our lad would never use the word congregate." They both smiled at each other. He added, "It's just over forty paces from the front of the building to the ice cream shop, almost fifty if you throw in elevation and that we'd be back from the window a bit; twenty-five to that can I put in the road. I set the sights for twenty-five."

Dan nodded and looked around a bit more. He added, "The problem is, the first thing that goes wrong for one of those morons, the others will start in killing."

Ben agreed and added, "We'll have to figure on six to ten of 'em. If we go for the ones in back first, the ones in front might not notice as fast. Let's worry about taking them down, rather than wait for solid frontal shots. Have you got the other magazines?"

"Right here. What time is it?"

"About ten. The students should start getting here any minute. Be sure the door has that chair propped against it. We don't need some amorous couple walking in on us."

… - …

**Student thread**

As they were leaving the castle at ten to go, Luna replied, "I'd be happy to go to Hogsmeade with you Neville. If you buy me lunch, Daddy said it would be all right if we made out. Boobs, but nothing below the waist."

"Neville? Neville? Daddy said that you'd be in a hurry to get to lunch, not look as if you'd been stunned. Are you OK?"

"Did you know that the average age of first intercourse is fifteen years and seven months for boys?"

"Neville?"

The Longbottom heir had fainted.

… - …

As McLaggen and his "date" for the day, Romilda Vane were walking to Hogsmeade, just in front of Neville and Luna, Cormac bragged, "My Uncle, Tom Felsenthal is on the Wizengamot. . He's a financier for some very important people. He used to be head of magical sports. He told me that when I finish in two years, I could get a job in that department. Of course, that's only if Birmingham doesn't make me an offer. Vane, what business is your family in?"

She replied, "Mum's in potion development. She runs an apothecary in Wales. Dad died before I was born."

"Sounds good. Have you ever seen the Shrieking Shack?"

"No, not really."

"Maybe we should go visit it."

"OK, Cormac."

… - …

A minute behind the unusual Gryffindor pairing, another conversation was taking place. "Guess what, Dennis?" Dad sent me more film! I'm going to take pictures of all of the buildings. I'll develop them and we can send copies to Mum and Dad. They'll like that so much. Aren't you excited?"

Dennis replied, "I was hoping to snog Ginny Weasley. Do you think she'd let me?"

… - …

Finally, at the end of the pack of students another conversation was taking place. "Of course the Cannons are the best. They just haven't been playing up to their potential. When I finish, I'll join them and we'll be top of the league. Sally, wanna go get something to eat?"

"You just ate an hour ago. That's why we're late getting here."

"That's because nobody woke me up."

She muttered, "I hope your brothers pay up."

Ron asked, "Sorry. What did you say? I was thinking about the Cannons."

"Nothing. Let's go get something to eat."

"That's a great idea."

… - …

**DE thread**

At 11:55, three Averys, three Notts and Mrs. Goyle apparated to the Shrieking Shack. Mrs. Goyle fired off two A-Ks ending the young lives of a seventh year named McLaggen, who was having sex with a fourth year named Vane.

Wolfred Nott exclaimed, "That's Felsenthal's nephew!"

Donna Goyle simply shrugged and replied, "Fortunes of war. He shouldn't have been rutting a little girl on top of a rock."

Peter Nott said, "Enough quibbling. Another minute and we'll apparate to the middle of the street, just outside the Three Broomsticks. Junior and I will face towards the ice cream shop, so we don't get ambushed. You five face the building. It will be noisy, so know your role. We fire off some slashing curses at the kids, Crucios at anyone who stands against us and A-Ks at any ministry types. Ready? One, two three."

… - …

_Pfft_. Avery Senior was down within a second of reappearing. A score of third years stood nearby; too frozen in fear to speak. A seventh year girl made up for all of the silence, screaming and running as fast as she could into the Ice Cream Shop.

Alerted by the sound of the girl, there was a flurry of movement and more screams. Students and adults were running as fast as they could, often into one another. Years of inconsistent, worthless, or worse DADA instruction had come home to roost. The older students may have known some useful spells, but few had the conditioned mindset to actually use them.

_Pfft._ Ben missed and worked the bolt action as quickly as he could.

Donna Goyle was almost knocked over by a frightened fourth year, determined to get from the Ice Cream Shop into the Three Broomsticks

_Pfft_. The last thing Wolfred Avery saw was his dead father, crumpled on the ground. The Cruciatus curse that he'd cast on the Longbottom boy faded into nothingness as Avery's chin hit the paving stones.

… - …

Bob and Alyx, the Aurors on duty heard the sound and ran flat out from the post office entrance toward Rosmerta's. Alyx, showing excellent presence of mind, fired off a patronus message toward Auror Headquarters, advising them of the attack.

It would take them nearly a minute to reach the pub; all the while, the screams were getting more frantic.

… - …

John Dawlish reached the front door of the pub and fired a piercing hex at Mrs. Avery, hitting her in the shoulder.

He was cut down with two A-Ks a moment later.

… - …

Ben took aim at the next DE who had just fired a slashing hex at the still frozen third years. Three of the students were splattered with blood; a mix of their own and the oldest Avery, who had turned and noticed the fallen Notts. _Pfft_. Peter Nott's last thought was that he hadn't seen any returned spellfire that might have hit his colleagues.

… - …

Amos Diggory went into an apoplectic rage when John Dawlish was killed. He dashed out the door and cast. "_Percutio, Percutio, Percutio_. As he ran towards the band of Death Eaters, he was convinced that each of them had killed his Cedric. Unfortunately, in his rage, he hadn't hit a thing, and his shout alerted the Death Eaters to his presence.

_Pfft_. Ben dropped another moron, who was firing at a man who had just run out of the pub. The slashing curse severed Amos' leg, just above the knee. Momentum carried him to Mrs. Avery, who previously had been hit in the shoulder. At point blank range, he fired a _Reducto_ hex into her neck before he passed out from blood loss.

Tom Avery cast a blasting hex into the pub. _Pfft._ Both men hit their target,

_Pfft_. Just as Ben was firing on Mrs. Nott, the students finally retaliated en-masse and began casting whatever hexes, curses and jinxes that they knew at all of the Death Eaters, standing or fallen. _Pfft._ Ben fired again at Tom Avery, just to be sure.

Ben had emptied his magazine in just over thirty seconds; only missing once. Satisfied that all the bad guys were down for the count, he handed Dan the rifle and said, "We gotta get out of here." As Dan put the rifle and magazines into the tube, Ben picked up the eight empty cases and put them in his pocket.

All of the shouting and crying downstairs easily masked the little noise that they were making. Dan quickly removed the chair that had been blocking the door whole Ben closed both windows.

They held their watches, said, "Home," and were gone.

… - …

The students were still firing hexes at the dead or dying Death Eaters when Bob and Alyx finally arrived. In her best command voice, she said, "Everyone put your wands down. Now. Is anybody hurt?"

… - …

Neville felt as if every inch of his skin and all of his bones were on fire, as Luna held him. She kissed him and said, "You'll feel better in the morning. Much, much better; I promise."

Most of the third years just sat down on the street and began to cry. The boys looked dazed, while the girls clung to each other for dear life.

Again, Alyx yelled, "Who is hurt?" while Bob kicked the wands away from the bad guys. She fired off another Patronus to St. Mungo's asking for assistance, one to Moody, out of habit, and one to Flitwick, her old head of house.

… - …

Rosmerta ran out with a first aid kit and tied a tourniquet around Amos' leg.

Hearing cries back in her pub, she saw that one of her tables had been hit from Avery's blasting hexes. A student that she knew as Justin had been badly cut by a piece of flying wood, losing his right arm, just below the elbow. His friend Ernie had a piece of wood that had pierced his ear.

… - …

Collin Creevy had a half roll of film left when the Death Eaters appeared. Standing by the ice cream shop, he'd taken several photos of the utter confusion and the battle by the door of the pub. His last photo was of Undersecretary Diggory fighting for his life with one of the Death Eaters.

Dennis, his brother was shaking in fear, as shock set in. The slight third year had a relatively small cut on his neck, but he was splattered with blood. Collin located Dennis and held him as tightly as he could, screaming for help.

… - …

Rita Skeeter, Croaker, with two of his assistants and Amelia all arrived separately just seconds after Dumbledore, who looked positively winded.

Unfortunately, the healers would be another three minutes.

… - …

Ernie Macmillan had never been so scared in his entire life. He desperately tried to help his friend Justin. Unfortunately, he vanished, rather than repaired Justin's detached hand. Fortunately, Finch-Fletchley was passed out at the time and never saw his hand again.

At the sight of the blood, and the realization that his best friend would never have his hand again, the pompous lad went into shock.

… - …

Seeing that the Death Eaters were in fact, all down, Amelia called, "Who is wounded, or hurt?"

Several of the third years including Dennis, Luna and Neville, along with Amos were identified as those hurt outside. She checked in the pub and asked. Justin and Ernie were identified and brought outside with the others.

… - …

Just then Fudge appeared. Amelia asked, "Minister, are you hurt?"

He looked bewildered and asked, "Where are John and Amos? What happened?"

In her best command voice, she called, "Minister, sit down. This is an active crime scene and we have many wounded and dead to contend with. I won't ask you again. Sit down."

For once in his lifetime, the shaken man did the right thing and followed instructions. Pulling a quill out of his pocket, he wrote a few lines on the back of a spare bit of parchment.

She went back outside, found Dumbledore and requested, "Headmaster, please get every student who isn't wounded or hurt back to the castle and do a headcount as quickly as possible."

Next she asked, "Alejandro, please take your people and search to the other end of the village. I doubt that there are any Death Eaters hiding, but there might be more students who need to get sent back."

He gave her a nod and replied, "As you wish."

She said, "Bob, please clear the pub, upstairs and down to be sure that we have all of the wounded. There might be kids hiding upstairs, hurt, or in the toilets."

He went to perform his assigned duties, looking at the fallen form of Dawlish; glad that he hadn't been standing there in John's place.

Amelia directed, "Alyx, send Healer Crabtree another Patronus. We have a total of eight wounded – two severely and one with Cruciatus exposure. We need them here, now. If they're not on their way, we'll need to risk portkeys for the students and get Amos and that other boy to the castle. It is my preference that they all go to St. Mungo's. Let me know in one minute."

Nearly a minute later, Head Healer Amanda Crabtree and Resident Healer Roberta Evans arrived, each carrying their crash bags. Needing no direction, they each went to work.

… - …

By 12:10 Amelia had all but given up on the idea of trying to preserve the crime scene. When Sunset had come back, she asked, "Bob, has anything been moved?"

He nodded and replied, "I bagged these." He gave her the single, sealed evidence field bag that every Auror carried. She handed him a Bic pen and said, "Mark it – contents, location, then sign and date it." She smirked at him and added, "It's the eleventh."

He smirked back at her. She knew her people very well. He pointed to two wands on the table by the door and added, "Those are John's and Diggory's." She handed him her bag and replied, "Bag and mark those, too."

Amelia walked back out and added, "Anna, please keep everyone out of the pub and off this section of the street. Connie and Anna should be here pretty quick."

Little did she know that they were already waist deep in another investigation.

… - …

**Diagon Alley Thread**

At noon in Diagon Alley, things were just about to heat up.

Michelle Wood and her husband Mike had joined the Hit Wizard training program a month before Lord Voldemort first encountered baby Harry. Now, after thirteen years in the program, they were at the top of their game. Like most in their line of work who were successful, they possessed a keen eye for detail, could think on their feet, had quick reflexes and lived by the old rule, _do what you need to finish your shift in one piece._

Like everyone in their department, they were angry over the loss of Nick Straighthand and were eager for a bit of payback. The tip that Thicknesse told them of seemed to offer just that.

Mike, like his younger brother Oliver was a quidditch fanatic. Michelle and her sister, Gwenog Jones both played while at Hogwarts. It was a match made in heaven.

When they saw the group of Death Eaters appear at the eastern intersection of Diagon and Knockturn Alley, they both had the same idea. It took less than a minute for Mike to dash into Quality Quidditch Supply and confiscate two brooms for an _unscheduled_ _safety check_.

They disillusioned themselves and went hunting. They made a fast run past the eastern intersection and by the time they'd flown passed, both Crabbes were on the ground with a _Percutio_ hole in their upper chests. Seconds later, they reached the western intersection where the three Flints had killed a young mother and her little boy, engaged Rufus, and were quickly closing in on him.

_Avada Kedavra_. Three jets of light zoomed past the old Auror; missing him by fractions of an inch. He flattened against the ground. Seconds later, when he looked up a few seconds later, the two older Flints were dead. Marcus was looking at his father on the ground when he was stuck by Scrimgeour's piercing hex. His final thought was that missing quidditch practice today had been a really bad idea.

Tonks and Shacklebolt had initially been deep into Knockturn Alley. They worked their way back to the eastern intersection and saw Gary Gibbon fire a sweeping cutting curse at someone in the air. Luckily both riders were missed, but Mike's broom was badly damaged. Michelle, who had been slightly behind her husband, made a miraculous grab at his disillusioned arm and they made it down safely.

Tonks and Shacklebolt were both familiar with Snape's curse that was meant to kill a victim, as it created a slice that was all but impossible to mend. While Gibbon was focused on the flying hitwizards, Tonks and Shack both fired legal cutters at him. He was dead before he'd fallen.

… - …

Meanwhile Alecto and Amycus Carrow had reached the Dragonhide shop and cast _Fiendfyre_.

Tonks was checking on the Woods, while Shacklebolt was checking on the Crabbes. None of them saw Thorfinn Rowle cast a perfectly placed piercing hex at Kingsley's neck.

Tonks made a desperate attempt to save Shack, but there was far too much damage. As she portkeyed her dying partner to St. Mungo's, the Carrows and Rowle purposefully walked through the Leaky Cauldron and apparated back to Malfoy Manor.

… - …

Having heard the news of yet another dead co-worker, finding a one pound bag of wingjam on the body of Mrs. Flint was of little consolation.

By the time that the fire in the dragon hide shop had been put under control, Madam Malkin's had also burned to the ground.

Aside from the two civilians and Senor Auror Shacklebolt, no one else had been killed or badly injured.

… - …

Not wanting to complete far too many forms in triplicate, as Connie and Anna were collecting wands and taking photos, Mike Wood returned the brooms and in a loud voice proclaimed, "Those brooms are obviously defective. You should have the entire stock checked. Look at this one – the bristles are coming off right in my hand."

They quickly walked back to Connie, who examined both of their wands.

As they were finishing, Connie received a Patronus message from Amelia, and said to Anna, "We need to leave. Now."

**Hogsmeade – post attack thread**

It would have been Rita's nature to write a story shredding someone. Her original intent had been to listen in on Fudge and Diggory, while they were having lunch in such a public place. What she saw both sickened and inspired her. She eyed the boy with the camera, but the students were led away before she could talk with him.

… - …

Sprout and McGonagall were simultaneously furious and very worried. Potter, Granger, Bones, Vane and McLaggen were all missing and unaccounted for.

Sprout said, "I presume that those three went off somewhere together, but where could Romilda and Cormac be?"

McGonagall replied, "No one mentioned that they were seeing each other."

Sprout quipped, "McLaggen does have some tomcat tendencies, if you know what I mean. Perhaps it's just a spur of the moment thing and she's being accommodating."

As they were sniggering at their little joke, they received Croaker's message that he'd found Potter and his two friends, safe and sound. Apparently they'd been having a fancy lunch together at the other end of the village and missed the whole thing.

There was no laughter when they received the next message from Auror Bob Sunset.

ooo ccc ooo

The old scribe knew that he'd delivered a complicated report. So many things were happening at the same time – Harry's lunch with his friends, the attack at the other end of the village, the attack at Diagon Alley and the attack at Azkaban. Unfortunately, his hand cramped up while writing everything down and he had to leave the gruesome Azkaban news until the next report.

He knew that the old crone would not be happy with the news, but was encouraged when he recalled her earlier words that transfiguration was not to be used as a punishment. Therefor he hadn't thought to duck when he saw the jet of yellow light hit him in the forehead.

He woke up with a massive headache, holding the sign, _Remember my words – no product placements._ As he tried to get back on his feet he kept wondering why the name Paul Kersey kept popping into his mind.

Later, when she'd regained a measure of control, McGonagall noticed that there was writing on her blackboard – Accidental Animagus – 9863146. There also was a drawing of a stick figure with one finger in the air, shouting _Mean old bint_. She wasn't amused.

Author Note: Aside from the roles illuminated by Lorddwar's epic tale and the various rooms that the teens went through in book 5, are there any canon descriptions of the Unspeakables?

… - …


	10. Connie Hammer

… - …

.

**Part III - Racing the Inspectors**

**Chapter 10 – Connie Hammer**

Saturday 9 October

Dumbledore dreaded going down for dinner that Saturday evening. Professors Sinistra and Vector, who'd been listening to the wizarding wireless all afternoon were on him like stink. "We told ya, we told ya he was a bad egg. Di ya, did ja _ever_ listen to us? No! _I trust Severus. I trust Severus. Severus has my complete confidence._ A fecking Death Eater! Why didn't you make him a name tag for parents day – _Severus Snape-Pet Death Eater_. You old fecking fool!

"How many good men were murdered there today? Six. We taught four of those lads ourselves. How many did your pet arsehole kill himself? _I trust Severus_. You stupid fool. Good men gone. Damn you. Damn you, Dumbledore."

To make matters worse (if possible) six black envelopes arrived just as they were winding down. Greg Goyle got one, Vincent Crabbe received two and three owls landed in front of Theodore Nott and his little brother. All four lads were suddenly orphans. Theo's entire family had been wiped out in one afternoon.

Potter's words kept coming back to Draco.

_Being an orphan isn't that much fun. It can happen to the kids in Slytherin just as fast as Hufflepuffs. Is that what you want next year; a school full of orphans?_

… - …

The students were just about to get up and go back to their common rooms when Professor McGonagall walked over to Colin Creevey, who was sitting across and one over from Hermione. She said, "Mr. Creevey, the editor of the _Daily Prophet_, a Mr. Barnabas Cuffe, is out in the front entryway hall, wishing to do business with you. He has offered to purchase your camera and the roll of film that you took today for one hundred galleons. Would you like to go see him?"

Hermione hrmmphed and suggested, "Tell him one thousand and take the offer."

Colin, like every one of the third and fourth year Gryffindor boys had a secret crush on the witch who had helped each and every one of them with their homework.

"OK, Hermione," nodded Colin, grateful for the advice. "One thousand. I have my camera and film right here."

Ten minutes later, Colin was without the camera that had annoyed every student in his house and was staring at a sizeable bag of gold. He immediately offered her half. She declined and gave him a kiss instead. One second turned into five. When she broke it off, the young lad was certain that he'd died and gone straight to heaven. She gave him a slight smile when they walked back to their dormitory.

Harry was about to say something to tease her, when she cut him off and said, "Don't say a word." Since he'd recently come to the realization that kissing a pretty girl who was kissing back was a very enjoyable activity, he nodded and remained silent. Unless a dire situation arose, he'd never be an arse of a brother. He nodded and winked.

… - …

One moon-eyed boy aside, it was a pretty subdued group that walked back to their common room. Dennis and Neville were in St. Mungo's. Romilda and Cormac were in the DMLE morgue. The house elves had already packed their trunks and sent them back to their homes.

Naturally, it didn't take Ron much to get riled up. "It was those slimy snakes behind this; I just know it." A few people looked like they nodded in agreement.

Lee Jordan asked, "Ron, do you really believe that? Which ones?"

"Well, Malfoy for sure."

Lavender challenged him, "I'm not one to stick up for him, but Parkinson, Bulstrode and Malfoy had detention today with Professor Sprout."

"Well, Zabini then."

Katie Bell shook her head and stated, "He was in one of the upstairs rooms at Puddifoot's with Cho Chang. She told me that she wanted to see his wand."

Lee added, "OK, we have a lover boy and three in detention. Who do you want to blame now?"

"OK. Crabbe and Goyle."

"They were in the three Broomsticks chatting up Pucey's little sister and Eloise Midgen. They were sitting right next to Finch-Fletchley. They could have gotten blown up as easily as anyone. How about Astoria Greengrass?" Ron looked like he was ready to jump on that idea when Lee mentioned, "Oh wait, she's in second year. Is there anyone else that you want to blame, or can we let this drop?"

Ron looked like he wanted to say more, but Kyle Larkin, one of the sixth years said, "Go to bed, Dumb-Arse. Either go to sleep, or at least try to think up some new lines to spew." Ron looked around the common room, but no one came to his defense. Subdued, he walked upstairs and closed his curtains.

… - …

It was equally morose in the Slytherin common room. News of the loss of the majority of the Parkinson fortune had begun to spread, especially the seizures and fines. Theo seemed to believe that nothing of the sort could ever happen to him. Vince and Greg weren't so arrogant in their beliefs. As the other's parents were listed as godparents, neither teen knew where they'd go.

They had no head of house to turn to, so they went to their beds and closed the curtains. Quiet sobs could be heard from both boys' spaces.

The older students chose to ignore their plight and pretended that it hadn't happened. A high level of empathy wasn't a common Slytherin trait.

… - …

Connie and Anna felt like they'd been handed a month's worth of work, within the span of an afternoon, all of which needed to be finished within a day. Anna opened another can of coke; trying to stay alert. For the third time that evening, Connie summarized what they knew and believed.

"The Diagon Alley investigation all seemed to match. Rufus stated that he'd killed Marcus Flint with a piercing hex and it was one of the last hexes cast on his wand. He stated that the three had fired A-Ks at him and the two bystanders and all three recovered wands registered them. The Woods' flying strategy was certainly unconventional, but in this case, was successful. Fiendfyre was definitely used and fortunately, was quickly contained. Kingsley's death was certainly a tragedy, but based on Tonks' memory would have been hard to avoid. Tom's memory was fairly crisp, given that he's been a functional alcoholic for thirty years. Based on body size and the fact that they were together, it's reasonable to believe that two of the Death Eaters who he observed were Alecto and Amycus Carrow, but we have no idea about the third person."

Connie wrote up her report and gave it to Anna to look over. Anna read it and suggested, "I'd consider these points; - first where did the original tip-off come from?"

Connie nodded, knowing that her question was, for now, rhetorical. She replied, "What else?"

"Is it reasonable to believe that the Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade attacks were to show strength, keep us tied up, or both? He'd have been better by just having the stinkers pop up for a few seconds, cast a hex or two and leave. His real prize was Azkaban."

Connie replied, "Good thinking. Let's count."

Anna started, "Harry said there were twenty-two in the graveyard."

Connie added, "Seven were seen in Hogsmeade."

"Agreed."

Connie said, "Five were killed in Diagon Alley, plus three equals at least eight if anyone went out a different exit."

"Anna said, "Another eight were with Riddle."

"Two Parkinsons."

"Right."

Connie said, "That's twenty-five."

Anna replied, "Two or three wives and a kid. If they weren't marked, Riddle couldn't have directly called them."

Connie concluded, "So the numbers still fit. There's no evidence of any real recruiting. So what don't you like?"

Anna replied, "Hogsmeade."

Connie stated, "Another diversionary measure. They probably didn't know that Fudge and Amos were going to be there. It should have been a massacre."

"Seven dead Death Eaters in Hogsmeade. So how did they die?"

"Hard to say for sure. Some had been hit with twenty hexes and jinxes by the time we saw them."

Anna smiled at the thought of some poor fool having been hit with twenty boil jinxes but added, "They were all hit with piercing hexes as well."

"Works for me. Where are you going with this?"

Anna replied, "Count the qualified adults on the scene."

"Fudge – just kidding."

"Right. Pull the other one too."

"OK, John, Amos, possibly some seventh year. Fudge was hiding in the toilet."

Anna said, "They don't teach that at Hogwarts, but then again, they don't teach A-Ks either."

"Granted, nobody checked Fudge's wand and Dumbledore was a late arrival. I suppose there are the shopkeepers. Bob and Alyx reported that the fighting was over by the time that they'd reached the pub."

"That leaves John and Amos."

Connie replied, "Here's the report – John had one piercing hex registered on his wand. Everything else was non-combative. Amos had three piercing and one blasting hex on his. That's four piercing hexes between them."

Anna asked, "So who cast the other three?"

"One of Croaker's people, or a seventh year who likes to read."

Anna surmised, "The Unspeakables would never tell us either way, but we know that they were there. It could have been friendly fire - an inept Death Eater hitting one of their fellows."

Connie replied, "Here's my problem – bless his heart, Amos couldn't hit the broad side of a barn at fifty feet."

"So was it an Unspeakable, the Ice Cream Shop owner or an unseen DE trying to do a bit of housecleaning? It just doesn't fit."

Connie observed, "The newspaper has pegged Amos as a hero. Between losing his son and losing his leg, I'm not going to take his bit of sunshine away from him. That said; we need to keep our eyes open and see if it happens again."

Anna asked, "Do you really think we have a rogue Auror out there?"

Connie admitted, "It's a real possibility. I'll get you another coke and we can work on the Azkaban case tomorrow."

… - …

Sunday 10 October

Hermione and Harry had just come into the Great Hall for breakfast, when the flock of owls arrived, delivering the Sunday paper. As they shared a subscription, they sat side by side and looked at the front page; all thoughts of eating forgotten.

The headline read, _**Amos Diggory, Hero of Hogsmeade**_

_**Rita Skeeter - eyewitness**_

_Senior Undersecretary Amos Diggory and Captain of the Guard John Dawlish all but singlehandedly defeated a group of seven vicious Death Eaters Saturday, just after noon, as they were attempting to rape and murder their way through Hogsmeade. The murdered students were identified as Romilda Vane (14) and Cormac McLaggen (16) also appeared to have been assaulted in the worst way, before being murdered._

_Neville Longbottom, son of famed Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom was tortured using the same ugly curse that felled his parents. Other seriously wounded students include Justin Fletchley and Ernest MacMillan. Several third-year students experiencing their first visit to the village were also injured and were scheduled to be released this morning._

_Fortunately, it wasn't a one-sided fight. Dawlish and Diggory demanded payback and got it. Seven marked Death Eaters, including Wizengamot members Peter Avery, and Peter Nott were killed – stopped before they could murder more innocents._

_Unfortunately Hit Wizard John Dawlish was killed in the line of duty, defending our children and Minister Fudge, who was visiting well-wishers at the time of the attack. _

_In an utterly heroic effort, Undersecretary Diggory continued fighting even though he was critically wounded defending the children. He is a true hero and should be commended by all for his actions. Diggory lost his leg in the attack and is currently in St. Mungo's. We pray for a speedy recovery._

"Wow!" remarked Hermione. "It sounds like they saved a lot of lives."

"I hope so," replied Harry, "But when has Rita ever gotten a story right?"

She initially looked like she wanted to say something to refute him, but thought about his words, and nodded. She replied, "The newspaper used two of Colin's pictures – one showing Diggory finishing off one of the Death Eaters. That's just brutal. The other one shows the aftermath of the attack. That's … disturbing."

The story on page two was just as telling.

_**Diagon Alley Attacked, Burned**_

_**Cheryl Whiteheart - reporter**_

_Ministry Sources reported that Senior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt was killed Saturday defending lives of those who work and shop in the Diagon Alley district. Two innocent bystanders, Sharon White (26) and her son John (3) were also senselessly murdered._

_Captain Rufus Scrimgeour, who was leading a joint defense consisting of Aurors and Hitwizards was quoted as saying, "We received information from a reliable source that there might be an attack in the alley. We focused much of our regularly scheduled resources in the area in an attempt to apprehend anyone responsible for endangering either property or innocent lives. This time, the Death Eaters refused to be captured. Of the estimated ten attackers, five were killed in the process of being legally apprehended. Those killed include Wizengamot member, Fran Flint. The other five Death Eaters slipped away and have not yet been identified."_

_Scrimgeour also mentioned that a sizeable quantity of the illegal drug wingjam was found on one of the Death Eaters that had been killed. He declined to speculate on what portion of their account assets would be seized as per Crown law regarding drug seizures._

Susan walked over behind Harry and gave him a little squeeze. She saw which article they were reading and mentioned, "Auntie told me that Auror Shacklebolt was one of the best in the department."

Hermione gave a little gasp and said, "Oh no."

Harry, who was enjoying Susan's touch asked, "What's wrong?

She replied, "The first pages must have already been put together when this story came in. It doesn't belong on page six. Look."

_**Azkaban Breached**_

_**Barnabus Cuffe**_

_A raiding party, consisting of by He-who-must-not-be-named himself and eight Death Eaters successfully broke into Azkaban Fortress and allowed the escape of ten dangerous prisoners. Among them are: Augustus Rookwood, Richard Travers, Antonin Dolohov and the Lestrange clan – Rabastan, Rodolphus and his infamous wife Bellatrix. Four other prisoners escaped. Their names were not released._

_Also, former Ministry Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge was discovered out of her cell, murdered. Additional circumstances were not released, pending notifications of their families._

_Warden John Wood was personally held captive by You-know-who, while the complement of six guards were slaughtered, despite putting up a valiant effort. The names of the guards were not released._

_Minister of Magic Fudge declined to comment on Wood's story, stating that the investigation is still underway. He also declined to comment of the current allegiance of the Death Eaters, or the death of Dolores Umbridge, who was not in her cell. He did state that one of the Death Eaters was identified as Severus Snape and was quoted as saying that, "Headmaster Dumbledore protected him from allegations of criminal activity and professional misconduct for years, but I always had my personal doubts."_

Harry remarked, "Even when he'd been proven to be a lying pile of Hippogriff dung, Fudge couldn't resist taking a poke at Professor Dumbledore."

"True, but it's easier for him to poke at Dumbledore than to admit that he was wrong and had discarded a mountain of evidence to squirrel away a few more galleons from Malfoy and his pals.

Harry turned the page and said, "Here's a piece about your Aunt."

_**True Leadership in Crisis**_

_**Rita Skeeter - eyewitness**_

_I had the opportunity to witness DMLE Director Amelia Bones respond to a crisis situation. Alerted to the danger, we both arrived at Hogsmeade, seconds after the killing had ended. Director Bones' first concern was for the wounded and those that were hurt. She masterfully utilized the resources that were available to her and those that volunteered, demonstrating true leadership._

_Minister Fudge, who apparently had been hiding in a toilet, had no comment._

"That was nice of her to say that," commented Hermione.

"I'm sure that it was all true, but it kind of paints a target on her," replied Harry.

The strawberry blond nodded. "Not that she needs a brighter one than she already wears. I worry about her every day." Harry squeezed her arm in comfort. Having learned the love of a second-chance parent, he didn't enjoy the prospect of Susan losing hers.

Hermione had her _I'm thinking _look on again and Harry let her go. Finally she said, "So Voldemort bought his six best Death Eaters back and it cost him twelve other Death Eaters and four seats in the Wizengamot. That doesn't sound like a very good trade."

"True," agreed Harry, "but it also cost Greg, Vince and Theodore their parents, Mrs. Shacklebolt a husband and whoever belongs to those six guards at Azkaban – an expensive day no matter how you look at it, I hope the six who escaped go out for dinner with Snape and get hit by a bus on their way there."

Susan kissed him on the cheek to calm him down a bit and asked, "How's Dr. Emma?"

Hermione replied, "The same, but thanks for asking. Dad's interviewing a hygienist this week and Ami's got the new office set up. They moved into the new space a week ago. I think he'll start seeing patients part-time later this week."

Harry was happy about that news too. He added, "I got an idea; let's go outside."

… - …

While the three students were enjoying a morning of uncharacteristically nice weather, the two Investigators were hard at it.

"Morning, Sweets."

"Hi Connie. Are you ready to tackle the big one?" They looked in the pensieve at the memory that they received from Warden John Wood. After a few minutes, they climbed back out.

Connie asked, "Is it authentic?"

"Riddle certainly had the skill to alter it. Let's start out with the belief that it's real. We can poke holes in it later."

"It was a Saturday. Wood was in his office minding his own business. The lads were twelve hours on, twelve off, so there should have been three out on patrol."

Anna replied, "First question – How did Riddle and the stinkers get there? A portkey? Did he make it?"

That idea didn't feel right to Connie. She observed, "That leaves a lot to chance if it didn't pass through the wards. Check the portkey chain inventory and the logs."

Anna wrote a note in her tablet and replied, "OK. What else?"

"They knew exactly where to find their prisoners."

Anna admitted, "True, but those are widely known secrets."

Connie said, "Riddle personally killed the three Aurors that were off duty. He knew where to look. The Dementors did nothing either way. They took a portkey there. They got out with everybody that they came for and a few extras via opportunity."

"How much inside help would he need? The guards were all new guys."

"That's not unusual. It's a crap assignment"

Anna asked, "So why did he let John Wood live? Particularly after Snape had been identified?"

"Burns a bridge for Snape."

"So it wasn't a mistake?"

Connie replied, "I think it gave Snape something to fight for and pokes Dumbledore in the eye."

"Agreed. Last question – Dolores? She was on the first floor with the other non-marked prisoners who they released. Why'd they kill her?"

Connie thought for a moment and replied, "The Death Eaters did it. She died from an A-K after being hit with the cruciatus. None of the lads' wands had those."

Anna speculated, "So she originally wanted to join. They left on broomsticks. Either they were one short, or she opened her gob and pissed somebody off."

Suppressing a laugh, Connie commented, "That wouldn't take much. Does any of the evidence conflict with that theory?"

"No."

"So we're left with, 1) where did they get the portkey from, or more likely, who gave them one of ours and 2) other than to solidify Snape's allegiance, what was the advantage in letting John Wood live?"

Anna added, "And 3) who tipped Rufus off about Diagon Alley?"

Connie replied, "I'll go talk with Rufus."

The younger investigator said, "I'll look into the portkeys."

Connie suggested, "Check the chains themselves. Someone might have placed a counterfeit on the rack. Don't touch the chains themselves. Use the tracking wand."

… - …

Albus had taken the witches' dressing down harder than outward appearances had indicated. Severus had always held a special place in his heart. Perhaps he should have been paying the young man more for his services.

Fawkes gave a soft trill, thinking of the juicy fish that he'd just caught and eaten.

"Thank you, old friend. I agree; he can still be salvaged."

Maybe he could fly to the same spot and find another. He trilled at the prospect before disappearing in a flash.

Heartened by Fawkes' confirmation of his beliefs, the old professor turned his thoughts back to horcruxes. There was another location by the sea that he wanted to investigate.

… - …

Monday 11 October

The sign on the impossibly small second floor shop at the bottom of the Knockturn loop read Willy's 9-3. The man wearing a nondescript hooded cloak walked in the door. He looked at the proprietor for a moment and said, "Hello, Tom."

"Gus. You out for a midnight stroll, or you need something?"

"Papers. Italian. Ones that will hold up. I'll need them in a week, for travel before the end of the year."

"Having your doubts?"

"Just hedging my bets."

"One thousand."

"Here's the gold. Two nights. I'll be back."

"OK. Leave the crazy bitch at home."

"Thanks." Silently he closed the door behind him and walked in the shadows until he reached the apparition point. A moment later, Rookwood vanished as if he'd never been there."

… - …

While Rookwood was buying a cleverly forged copy of a valid passport, silent footsteps made their way along the street just in front of him. Sharp eyes found what they were looking for and someone bent down to pick up two metal objects.

In the darkness Rookwood walked within two feet of him without notice as he passed by.

ooo ccc ooo

Crow looked at the red and white coke cans that were sitting on McGonagall's desk. He thought to himself, _some people have no sense of humor._ She didn't look happy. Actually she didn't appear to even possess lips.

Brushing the short stubble that had just begun growing back, he hung his head low, hoping that she'd offer some allowances for his regular visits of late. He interpreted her exasperated look as begrudging acceptance, set his report on the desk, and slowly backed away. His eyes never looked away from the wand in her hand.

After he left, she picked up the bottle of Old Crow that the scribe had left on her desk. As she reached for the scrap of paper that he'd left, she realized that he'd done it again. Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she saw that the card read, 5777316 - Hedwig-and-the-Goblet-of-Fire.

A/N – Thanks to all who have taken the time to leave a note. I try to answer back. Are there any canon references to the number of members of the Wizengamot?

… - …


	11. Fortunes of War

**Chapter 11 - Fortunes of War**

Wednesday 13 October

The potions that Snape had prepared and given to the repatriated followers had caused each of them to sleep 72 hours straight. The combination of a powerful strengthening potion and a supplement to combat years of poor diet worked wonders on them. Binks had purchased each of them several sets of clean robes. They may not have been to their individual tastes, but after years of wearing filthy rags, the new garments must have felt like a big improvement. The same could be said for wands – all the provided replacements were more than serviceable, but none were a perfect fit.

The Lestranges were the first to become restless. Rudolphus and Bella announced that they would be leaving after dinner to return to their home.

Lucius remarked, "Perhaps you could save us some time and just return to your cells at Azkaban."

Bella asked, "Whatever do you mean, Brother-in-law?" Her words were spoken in an even tone, but her eyes had a deadly glint to them.

Lucius drawled, "Is it not reasonable that every property that you possess in Britain is being watched or has been warded to announce your arrival?"

Narcissa added, "It is also likely that with Sirius being declared innocent of all charges tomorrow, that he'll formally accept the title of Lord Black and have all of us removed from the wards of all the Black properties."

Rodolphus replied, "We need to get to Gringotts and find out what options are available. Bella, send Peter to the bank. Make an appointment for us for Friday morning. We'll be there at eight."

Riddle remained silent; watching how the dynamics between the Malfoy and Lestrange families played out. Satisfied with their solution, he called Peter and said, "Wormtail. I remain pleased with you, and have two small tasks for you. First, visit Stonegrinder at Gringotts. He should prepare a private meeting room for some important clients for Friday morning at eight." He handed Pettigrew a bag of gold, along with a slip of paper, and remarked, "I would also like you to find this wizard. Find him and permanently silence him."

Peter gave a smirk and replied, "It will be my pleasure, Master. Thank you."

… - …

Thursday 14 October

It was something of a formality, but Rufus called Pius Thicknesse into his office and said, "Since those two did such a good job the other day, I'll need them for a few days for TDY - temporary duty. It's a simple enough operation, in Brighton, mostly. Don't worry; your group will get the credit it deserves. Well, that's all now."

… - …

Connie opened the note, delighted to get mail from her favorite pseudo-niece.

_Dear Aunt Connie,_

_Thank you so much for the wrist wand holsters. All three of them fit and we'll practice until they work perfectly for us. Also, thanks for the advice on boys. He kissed me last night. He kissed me! It was perfect._

_Love,_

_Susie_

She had been a little surprised when she received the fast-draw wandholder request from Susie, but given recent events, had been more than happy to comply. So Harry finally kissed her.

She'd find the perfect time to tell Amelia.

… - …

It was obvious by the empty seats that something had changed in the Wizengamot. Tiberius Ogden was still new to running the organization, but demonstrated confidence in himself. After 250 years, the family distilling business was still run by the Ogdens. Tiberius was more often seen inspecting the raw grains or the cooking mash than in boardrooms. The family had earned their money, one batch at a time.

Like his predecessors, Ogden had made his share of enemies over the years, and disposed of them with a small army of private guards. As a result, ordinary intimidation was completely ineffective.

Ogden systematically worked his way through the old business portion of the agenda and asked, "Before we formally accept Minister Fudge's resignation and appoint an Interim Minister, is there any new business?"

Lucius stood and declared, "I'd like to intake Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott. Both have come here to be inducted and take their family seats in accordance with the Old Laws."

Ogden glanced at Augusta, who stood, saying, "Lucius, it was you who introduced and pushed through legislation at the first meeting of 1982 that prohibited those under seventeen from claiming their seats early. I believe your exact words were_, The Potter boy can claim his seat or appoint a steward when he's seventeen, not while he's wearing nappies and babbling."_

Malfoy tried again, "But the times have changed. Consideration must be made…"

Ogden held firm. "We will keep your rule for now, and I doubt that there are the votes available to pass a new measure which would overturn your previous amendment. Miss Parkinson and Mr. Nott are, of course, welcome to come any time and observe as visitors; though they might better spend their time in the classroom."

Lucius tried again, stating, "There are several Wills which need to be processed to allow the designated successor to claim their seat."

Amelia replied, "You are of course referring to the troublesome activities of last week. However, there are unanswered questions of succession. By example, it is very likely that Fran Flint appointed his son Marcus to be the successor for his seat here and preceded him in death. Should that prove out, it would be young Marcus' Will, if he had one, that should be examined. That's fairly straightforward."

She added, "In the case of Peter Avery, it's fairly certain that his son Tom survived him, at least for a few minutes. Should there be no evidence to the contrary, it will be presumed in accordance with the Old Laws. Since Tom Avery left no legitimate heir, then there would be the customary one year waiting period for an illegitimate heir to present themselves."

She paused and pointed out, "Given Tom's apparent preference for younger boys, I'm not positive that one will be found." She paused a few seconds for effect and added, "The so-called bone of the father might not work out as expected in this case."

Ogden hid a smirk and remarked, "The subject of Wills is complex. I'm told that in several current cases, the Ministry and the Crown have substantial claims, which will be processed prior to any other claims or tallies. In the case of the Goyle seat, it is very doubtful that they will possess the net assets necessary to hand down the family seat. Post-mortem gifts will, of course, not be considered."

He added, "If memory serves right, it was you yourself, Lucius who introduced the wealth test after the unfortunate death of Fabian Prewett. I suppose it falls on all of us to carefully consider the long-term consequences of the bills that we introduce."

Ogden continued, "If there are no other calls from the floor, we have two pieces of business for the day. I have the signed resignation from Minister Fudge. That accepted, Senior Undersecretary Amos Diggory will stand as Interim Minister for a period not less than sixty days and not more than ninety days; until a new election can be organized and held. Interim Minister Diggory will be required to name an eligible person as Senior Undersecretary at his first convenience. So mote it be."

There was brief applause from the visitor section.

Ogden continued, "The second order is for Dirk Cresswell to advise the Goblin Nation that the Crown and the Ministry have placed claims on the estates of Conrad Parkinson and Buster Goyle that need to be recognized and processed prior to any other accountings, disbursements, or tallies. So mote it be."

In the span of a week, the majority that the so-called conservative block had enjoyed for over a decade was lost and now they were the minority party.

… - …

Harry and Susan were walking back from Herbology. Susan asked, "How did you like the new professor in potions class?"

Harry replied, "I appreciate that Professor Tonks teaches theory and technique. Snape never did either; at least in the classes that I was in. We were paired with the Slytherins for the first four years. I never understood that; all of the other classes rotated houses from year to year."

Susan asked, "Didn't you ever read the extra reference books? I must have read _What Goes with What _twenty times before I understood reagents and why slicing vs. chopping mattered."

Harry asked, "What goes with what – we never received one, nor were we told to get a reference book."

"I'll run to my room and find my copy. I'll see you at lunch in ten minutes."

Harry watched her for a moment as she dashed off. There was a smile on his face. He walked down to the Great Hall. Hermione was reading the paper. She asked, "Harry, did you see this?"

_**Sirius Black Innocent - Freed**_

_**Cheryl Whiteheart**_

_Wizengamot Chief, Tiberius Ogden made the stunning announcement yesterday that Sirius Black had never received a trial! In fact, due to "sloppy recordkeeping on the part of the Wizengamot" he had never been charged either. Black was voluntarily questioned under the maximum level of Veritaserum and immediately released. Warrants were issued for Peter Pettigrew, who Black testified was responsible for the deaths of the muggles when he blew up a sewer line as well as betraying James and Lily Potter to the Dark Lord. Black also stated the Pettigrew is an unregistered animagus, who has the form of a common gray rat, which is missing a front toe._

Harry remarked, "That's good. He'll be able to do more with his life. I'm sure that his London home was better than Azkaban, but it still had to be confining."

She asked, "Do you suppose that he'll want you to live with him?"

"Dunno. I love Mum and Dan, and you, and also Grandpa Ben when we can get him to come visit."

She kissed him on the cheek as Susan walked to their table and sat down. Susan greeted then both and added, "Here's the reference book I mentioned."

Hermione immediately snatched it up with a great hrmmmph.

Harry asked, "Did you see this?"

_**Horace Slughorn Found Dead**_

_**Cheryl Whiteheart**_

_Professor Horace Slughorn was found murdered in a home that he'd been renting. Professor Slughorn (93) took early retirement from his teaching post at Hogwarts thirteen years ago. Slughorn taught potions from 1940-1982._

Harry commented, "Too bad that he retired when he did. We wouldn't have gotten stuck with Snape."

… - …

Draco put down the newspaper. Just over two months ago, he participated in his first Death Eater raid. Nine men went out; eight came back. Since then, six more had been killed, leaving him and his father as the only two remaining.

He decided that he wasn't hungry after all. _A school full of orphans._

… - …

"Good Night, Dr. G."

"Good night, Ami. Thanks for your help today. Have a good night. See you in the morning."

She left and a moment later, Dan saw the man looking around one of the surgical suites. "Hello, Ben. Did you come around for the five-shilling tour?"

"No, I'll wait until Emma gives it. I stopped by to see her this afternoon. Besides, it's your turn to buy dinner."

"Here or in the Alley?"

"We'll take a walk on the wild side. Should we bring the hardware?"

Dan replied, "Sure. We never know who might pop in."

"I suppose that means no dinner."

"All right. Let's just go out for dinner tonight. We can spend a few hours in the Alley tomorrow morning."

'Since you're buying, let's eat at the Black Dog pub on Barnfield."

They drove the short distance to the Black Dog. Like many pubs, it was a two story building, with living space above the pub. Inside, it was quiet and had large, dark high wall solid oak booths ensuring a good amount of privacy. Tim, the barman brought their pints, took their food orders then left them alone.

In spite of the size of the booth, they chose their words carefully. Dan asked, "Did you read the newspapers since Saturday?"

"No. I don't get the paper. You?"

"There were two other parties that afternoon besides the one that we attended. One left five flat out, including a lad that Hermione had met at the bank. The other one was a break-out fishing trip at the island. Ten got away including six big ones. A right shame. One of the blokes that we met took all of the credit."

Ben replied, "That's good, I guess."

"We've got some pictures of the ones that got away. We'll have to be careful."

"The kids are counting on us to have a successful fishing season, but we could get skunked ten times in a row."

"Maybe our banker buddy, the guy who sneers, could suggest a good time to fish."

Ben replied, "That sounds like a good idea."

Just then, Tim brought their food. They ate quickly and drove back to Dan's home. He showed Ben the pictures of the six Death Eaters who escaped. Ben studied the pictures carefully.

Ben admitted, "These look like some bad hombres. I don't suppose that ten years in prison will have improved their dispositions any."

Dan admitted, "Probably not." We'll leave tomorrow morning at half seven or so."

"OK. See you in the morning. Thanks for dinner."

… - …

Friday 15 October

And so it was that at six the next morning that the two hit wizards found themselves back on broom duty. Captain Scrimgeour had been fairly specific – the target was Death Eaters; escaped or not, and rats. If spotted, they were to be put down and not get up again.

They were disillusioned, making lazy loops at rooftop height at ten miles per hour. Mike followed Michelle about two seconds behind and slightly to the left. It took about seven minutes to make a loop. As the eastern apparition point was nearly midpoint in Diagon Alley, once they passed the bank it was just over three minutes until they returned.

As it turns out, a lot can happen in three minutes.

Mike had just passed Gringotts, heading towards the Leaky Cauldron when two men appeared by the marble steps. They politely nodded to the guards and began purposefully walking towards Fortescue's. A few seconds later, two other men apparated to the eastern point and began walking towards the bank.

Rabastan saw the other two men approaching. One was dressed in gray robes of no particular style or quality; the other in similar brown robes. He had a long bag made of some muggle cloth that he was carrying over his shoulder. Rabastan commanded, "Move aside, Mudbloods. We have business to attend to."

Dan and Ben were in no position to start a fight at that moment, let alone, finish one. They moved aside and let the other men pass.

They had walked past the apparition point when they heard a soft pop, but when they turned towards the noise, they didn't see anyone. Instead, a grey rat watched the two men walk up the marble steps, then scurried towards the ice cream shop to avoid being seen. The two men sneered at the guards and entered the bank.

Fortescue was there early, so the door was open. He greeted the two, "Morning, lads."

"Morning," replied Ben in a cheery voice. "What are the new flavors this week?"

The ice cream man, remarked, "The new lemonade flavor is excellent."

Dan remarked, "We'll get our design work done and stop down later to try it out. We like the space. Nice and airy, good light. Well, back to work."

Ben had already set up when Dan reached the door. Ben had already locked it. Unsurprised, Dan unlocked the door, walked in and relocked it. He asked, "Anything?"

Ben answered, "No sign of them yet."

Dan was watching out the window and pointed, "Look. Up there. See the brooms? Sort of like an unmarked cop car."

Ben thought for a moment and replied, "I expect that they're flying slow loops. Leave the window open. We'll move the table farther away from the window. It's too dark in here; nobody will see in."

Awhile later, Dan commented, "They're flying back." It was just under four minutes. "They're going to be looking down if anything happens. Let's watch."

The two hitwizards had just passed the bank when Rabastan and Rodolphus walked out the door. Wormtail was almost directly under the open third story window.

Dan and Ben saw the two brothers at the same time. Three things happened at once.

As Rodolphus stepped off of the bottom step, onto the street, Ben fired. _Pfft_. Wormtail changed out of his rat form, and Rabastan, who was splattered with his younger brother's blood, yelled in shock. Unfortunately, his eyesight was far from perfect and Pettigrew was the only person on the street that he could see. "_Avada Kedavra."_

Mike and Michelle, who were no more than a street away, heard them and were just completing their turn. _Pfft._ Ben fired again, just as the jet of green light was leaving Rabastan's wand. From Michelle's perspective, it looked exactly like the two wizards had just killed each other.

There were three young mums enjoying the morning sun, sitting on Fortescue's front patio. Recognizing the two wizards, they began casting hexes at the prone figures. Michelle and Mike landed and he shouted, "Wands down. Sit down, _all_ of you. Put your wands on the table."

Michelle stepped in front of Pettigrew and kicked his wand a few feet away. Mike cast a message Patronus and went to collect Rabastan and Rodolphus' wands. All three of the Death Eaters were dead.

Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, Pop, POP!

Every available DMLE person arrived, including Thicknesse, Scrimgeour and several of the younger Aurors, who were working with Tonks that day. She tripped over Pettigrew and accidently stepped on his wand, snapping it. Connie and Anna arrived, and gave the clumsy metamorph a withering look.

Rita, the ever-present pest, showed up seconds later. Rufus saw her and in a fairly loud voice said, "Pius, you should be congratulated. Your people brought down three of the most dangerous wizards around – Lestrange, Lestrange and Pettigrew."

By now, there was a fairly large crowd around and the three mums had regained their courage. One old woman, who would make McGonagall look like a blushing bride on her wedding night hobbled up to Rodolphus' body and kicked the head, hard enough to break his nose. She led a virtual landslide of angry people. By the time that the bodies were brought to the morgue, Pettigrew had two broken legs and most of his ribs broken. The other two didn't fare as well.

Scrimgeour glanced up and noticed that someone was closing the upstairs window. He let the crowd have their day. Three bad guys were dead and a fourth was as good as. He really didn't care who the wizards were that started the skirmish. In his mind, the results were three bad guys down, no good guys were injured. That was a good day.

Fortescue gave away free ice cream for the rest of the day. He was too busy to notice that the two wizards who rented his third floor hadn't stopped to sample the lemonade flavor.

… - …

"Headmaster, I've heard about the basilisk that Mr. Potter killed. What became of it?"

Surprised at the question, Dumbledore replied, "As far as I know it is still in the Chamber of Secrets."

Andromeda Tonks was aghast. "Basilisk parts have enormous value for potions and magical artifacts. How could you not think to protect his interest in the beast?"

Dumbledore smiled his grandfatherly smile and replied, "Remember, Professor, I wasn't headmaster when Harry fought the creature."

"Only because you couldn't solve a problem that three second years could! Besides, you were back by the time he got out of the Chamber."

"True," Dumbledore cut across the vexed professor, "but Harry wasn't in any condition to return to the Chamber then. Perhaps you didn't know that he'd been bitten by that very basilisk—"

"And healed from it by that very bird behind you that same day!" snarled the irate potions mistress. Others in the room were seeing her in an entirely new light. Suddenly, her maiden name seemed a lot more descriptive of her than her married one did.

"Professor. Please calm down. Harry was far more concerned about his friend, Hermione, and the other students than he was in pursuing a few galleons."

The room grew silent. You could almost hear the frost forming in Andromeda's voice. Dripping icy venom, she said, "_A few galleons?_"

Continuing in a silky, I've got you now and you know it voice, she asked ever so politely, "Professor, how large was that basilisk again?"

Around the staff room, expressions fought for control of faces. Some wanted to guffaw at the headmaster's faux pas, while Minerva was fighting a sense of outrage that the once revered headmaster would try so cavalier a dismissal of the value of the monstrous snake. All had heard of its epic size. Interestingly, none of the leaking expressions held either sympathy for Dumbledore or indignation at his being so thoroughly chastened in front of the staff.

Not pausing, the eldest sister of the House of Black laid down the law: "Dumbledore, my cousin is Mr. Potter's godfather. Either you will take me to the remains, or I will contact Sirius this minute. He will instantly contact both the Grangers and Amelia Bones, his magical guardian. One way or another, we will inspect the remains of the basilisk this weekend and see whether any of it can be salvaged."

Dumbledore had wilted at the mention of involving Sirius, for he knew perfectly well that not only would he act as Professor Tonks predicted, he would personally be involved as well. He dreaded the thought of both Blacks who wanted to protect Harry facing off against him in person and in front of others.

On the other hand—the one he had left—he had long wanted to get into the Chamber to search for another Horcrux.

"Professor, there is some merit in your points," Dumbledore agreed gracefully.

Eyebrows defied gravity all around the room. Dumbledore ignored them and continued, "We cannot enter the Chamber without Harry's help, however. Only a Parselmouth can open the passage. I will ask Madam Bones whether we may approach Harry for his assistance with that. It will not be necessary for him to enter the actual Chamber, but he will have to open the inner door as well. Then you and I can see for ourselves what remains of the basilisk."

Silence. One could have heard a pin drop. In Liverpool.

"Very well, Professor. You can have Fawkes take your request to Madam Bones right now. I suggest we plan this for tomorrow, right after breakfast. It will not take more than a few minutes of Mr. Potter's time and it will give us all day if needed."

Dumbledore said nothing in reply, being already busy with quill and parchment. After a moment, he glanced over his shoulder at the waiting phoenix, who leapt into the air with grace that belied his considerable size. He coasted silently to the table.

Dumbledore put the rolled and sealed scroll into his claw and said, "Old friend, could you please give this to Madam Bones?"

To which Professor Tonks added, "And Fawkes, could you please wait for her reply?"

At Dumbledore's nod of acquiescence, Fawkes rose again into the air, this time vanishing in a burst of fire.

… - …

Saturday 16 October

"Thank you for your help, Harry," said Dumbledore as the snake door opened. The fabled Chamber of Secrets was open again for the first time in two and a half years. As Harry retreated with Flitwick, the air in the Chamber wafted out. Dumbledore staggered before he could cast the Bubblehead charm. He noticed the smirks on both Blacks, who had their bubbles in place while his back was turned to bid farewell to Harry.

"Lumos."

"Lumos."

"Magna pila lucis candidae."

At Andromeda's incantation, barely audible to Sirius and not at all to Dumbledore, a big ball of bright light sped from her wand upward to the center of the vaulted ceiling of the cavernous Chamber of Secrets. Sirius snickered at Dumbledore's obvious discomfiture at being shown up by the infamous Black family magic. "Another point to Andy!" he cheered inwardly.

They made their way slowly down into the Chamber, eyes riveted on the colossal rotting mass before them. They had heard of it's size and Dumbledore had seen the memory—but memory, Dumbledore knew, was true so far as the giver believed. He had long thought Harry had been almost overwhelmed by a large snake and had increased its size unconsciously. Seeing the true size, knowing it corroborated Harry's memory in every detail, only hardened his conviction that Harry was The One. He bitterly regretted the necessity of Harry's death, but as the foremost authority on Horcruxes beside Riddle, he knew it must be so.

He was glad that to become a master Legilimens, one had first to become a master Occlumens. No one could learn of his knowledge and conclusions. His enemies would use the knowledge to target Harry and protect the remaining Horcruxes far more actively than before. And his friends—his friends, it pained him to admit—would be so focused on protecting Harry that they would utterly thwart the only way to rid the world of Tom.

His aging eyes might not see as acutely as in his youth, but the magic he was using to detect other magic was a sure as it had ever been. He could see nothing else in the Chamber but the known and the usual—the mouth of Salazar's head, the snake door, the faint aura over the basilisk, the lights that had responded to the Lumos spells he and Sirius had cast—nothing unusual, no indication of any other hidden passages or doors, Parselmagic-activated or otherwise.

He and his companions ventured into Salazar's still-open mouth. They found nothing but a magically enlarged room where the snake had slumbered during its centuries of isolation.

Disappointed, the trio left to go back into the main chamber, Dumbledore's despairing thoughts about not finding Horcruxes foremost in his mind.

Andromeda had other thoughts and they were not kind ones for the old man she accompanied. She magically measured the snake and precisely extrapolated the size and weight of the basilisk that the bones and teeth revealed.

She forced herself to stop and regain control. Sirius recognized the warning signs and made sure he was not between her and her intended prey. He was also struggling with his own, much rougher estimate of the value of the creature before them, had it been harvested properly. Dragon skin was an order of magnitude more expensive than lesser leather armors, no matter the work and spellcraft and potions that went to augment the ordinary leather. A 500 galleon leather armour kit for Aurors would cost 5,000 galleons made of even the cheapest dragon hide.

Basilisk hide was worth far, far more than dragon hide. There was so little of it ever available that even the Blacks had never seen a complete armor kit made from the stuff. He'd seen a few headpieces—helmet liners, really—and a few patches intended to cover the heart worked into dragon skin armor. Even those small modifications doubled the cost of the dragon skin armor. A complete suit of it was unimaginably expensive—or would have been had the skin not been left to rot. He guessed the wasted hulk would have fetched five million galleons had it not been decayed.

He was wrong.

Andromeda spoke, her voice hard as the stone surrounding them, "Ten. Million. Galleons."

Dumbledore had been lost in his own thoughts. "Beg pardon?"

"Ten million galleons, Dumbledore. You cost Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, ten million galleons."

"Surely you exaggerate, Professor," Dumbledore began.

"No," said Sirius, "she is far more likely correct than I am, and my estimate was five million galleons just based on the hide being used for armor."

"That is a very good estimate for the hide, Sirius," agreed Andromeda, "but the venom, the blood, the bile, the vitreous of the eyes, the cerebral spinal fluid, the rest of the internal organs—even the sex organs—all had incredible value as potions ingredients. Potions unavailable since Merlin's time remain lost to us due to your bungling ineptitude, Al."

Sirius winced at her use of Al. Andromeda was fastidious in her use of Pureblood etiquette; he had noticed her gradual and persistent demotion of Dumbledore over the time she had been close to him. She had upbraided Sirius for his contempt for "the Headmaster" as she had called him when she started at Hogwarts. He'd seen her reduce him to Professor, then to Dumbledore. For her to go to the diminutive Al—skipping over the overly familiar Albus altogether—was as good as a scorching oath from the lips of a drill instructor.

Dumbledore had no clue just how angry Andromeda was—in her wrath, even Sirius could not think of her as Andy—nor could the old man conceive just how far she was willing to go in her quest for retribution.

Sirius had loved James like a brother. Here was the innocent son of that brother, orphaned, unloved in the only home he knew for more than ten years, and now cheated out of a fortune that he'd earned by neglect and oversight.

Andromeda inwardly grinned. She and Sirius were not so different after all. Sirius would find his own way of avenging Harry upon the hapless has-been, but that would do nothing to deter Andromeda's own retribution for a role model gone bad. She already had the first of a series of letters to Rita Skeeter outlined in her mind.

"Fifty thousand. Maybe. There's not that much difference between dragon and basilisk bones. I doubt that there's much viable venom left in the fangs themselves."

"Half of one percent of its worth. Knowing Harry, he'd probably have given half of it away, but _your_ priorities took away that opportunity, didn't it. You boned the dog and don't even think you've done anything wrong."

The two Blacks eyed each other grimly. This was blood-feud level offense. This was Azkaban-worthy malfeasance for a headmaster who had been, at the time, the magical guardian for a student. For it to have been the Boy Who Lived—well, there was no place Dumbledore could hide from the outrage.

Andromeda looked thoughtfully at the silent Dumbledore.

"You don't care at all, do you? Were your little plans ruffled when Harry went to the Grangers and grew a pair? You have some other agenda here, Dumbledore. I don't know what it is, but I do know it has nothing to do with running this school."

Silence was her reply.

Recognizing her wand movements, Sirius hastily plugged his ears with his fingers just before the massive cannon blast of sound hit them.

Dumbledore was flattened. Not injured but knocked silly, he got slowly to his feet, disbelief and anger showing in his face. His eyes widened even further as he saw the glowing tip of Andromeda's wand leveled at the point right between his eyes.

"You will tell me why we are here," commanded Andromeda. "You will explain yourself. Now."

Thinking quickly, Dumbledore rationalized, "It would have caused more damage than you could imagine if the market had been flooded with basilisk armor. As you mentioned, it's priced well out of the reach of the ministry or innocent people. Tom and his well-heeled minions will be worthy adversaries as it is, without them wearing impenetrable armor, and they are the only ones who could afford it. Surely you wouldn't wish to face Bellatrix or Travers when they were so armed? So it really is for the best that it never hit the market. The Potter fortune can do without such an infusion of gold. Additionally, it would be best that news of our search down here not reach Tom's ears."

At that moment, and not for the first time, Fawkes saved Dumbledore via the fast exit.

"I hate that man," remarked Sirius. "He's usually right, but he thinks nothing of bypassing a person's right to choose. Someday people will find his grave and piss on it. I'll be first in line. He does have a point about people not knowing that the castle is systematically being searched. Will the bones continue to deteriorate in the next year, or is the damage already done?"

Andy admitted, "No, the damage is done. Do you want to wait on this?

Sirius replied, "Please. I'll run it by Harry, but yes. Thanks for inviting me along today."

"Don't be a stranger, Sirius. We're family." A minute later Fawkes flew them out and the magical doors closed behind them.

… - …

"Connie, he's as good as killed him. It's just a matter of time."

"Who is he?"

"Captain Scrimgeour. He had Thicknesse's name published in the newspaper."

"And?"

"He's as good as pointed that rabid bitch dog at him."

"And what of the six lads we talked about last week? Sweets, we know that he intentionally diverted all of the resources away from Azkaban, towards Diagon; giving the regular lads the weekend off, putting in those boys you were so sweet on. You know why he did it, and you know that something had to be done about it. Something was done, but nothing will bring those lads back."

"No, but…"

"But what?"

"Nothing happened to Edgecombe."

"Are you 100 percent sure that she was the one who stole the portkey chain, substituted the counterfeit and passed the real one off to one of those stinkers? If so, say it."

"99."

"Reasonable doubt, for now. We keep our eye on her. But Sweets, he did the right thing and if it works that way, never lose sleep about it. Rufus is a good man that had an ugly task handed to him. He's still a good man."

"But he all but destroyed the evidence in the Lestrange-Pettigrew case."

"How? Did he force Tonks to trample on that fat rat's little wand?"

"No, but there must have been fifty people who took a whack at them after they killed each other."

Connie replied, "I'd have kicked Pettigrew in the stones myself for what he did to James and Lily. What about what those two animals did to Frank and Alice? Most of the people there would have known them, their lad Neville, or Augusta. You were at Hogwarts when Alice was finishing. I'm surprised that you didn't take a poke at those dogs yourself."

Anna was uncharacteristically silent and her cheeks flushed. Connie wisely let it pass and added, "So Michelle Wood stated that she saw Pettigrew and Rabastan kill each other. What's the problem?"

Anna replied, "No motive."

"Sweets, we have no way of knowing that. Pettigrew could have been the butt of every Death Eater joke that was ever invented. He could have fancied one of the girls that they ruined or snuffed out in the late 70s. That evil woman could have stepped on his tail. There could be a hundred reasons."

Anna was silent.

"We're not going to charge any of those bystanders that took a poke at those three any more than we're going to go after those kids who were at Hogsmeade. I know we talked about watching for piercing hexes, but this one is just too muddy to look into."

Anna still didn't look entirely appeased.

Connie asked, "What else?"

"The location."

"What; the street in front of Gringotts, or the fact that it didn't happen in their little clubhouse? I'd go with the simple fact that Bellatrix wasn't there."

This time the younger woman nodded in agreement. "Makes sense, she admitted."

"Now you're talking. It's been a long afternoon, Sweets. Let's call it a day."

… - …

Dumbledore had a need. He couldn't remember the last time that he'd had such a need. He had minutes of dizziness and quite honestly, he was increasingly frail. He needed a place where people would hide things; a place where Tom would hide things. He needed a place to hide a horcrux.

After days of futile searching, a door opened for him.

The old professor walked in. He unconsciously wished that the room had better lighting. Within seconds, the room was as bright as McGonagall's classroom. It became obvious to him that the need to hide things had been around as long as the castle had been in existence.

Some of the items looked recent; a case of empty sherry bottles was stacked on several other cases of empties. Other items looked like they'd been there for centuries. An old vanishing cabinet looked like it could have an ominous use. He vanished it into the ether.

After several hours and more than a few rests, he found something that was exquisitely crafted, yet felt horribly wrong in a very familiar way.

… - …

Lord Voldemort's first one-hundred days in his rebirthed form were not what he'd previously imagined they would be.

On the upside he counted:

*His rebirth had worked, or largely worked. He had honestly expected to regain his twenty-year-old Tom Riddle handsomeness. His current form was in direct contrast with the first two of Dippet's books that he'd read when he was fifteen. It didn't happen, yet he had a very capable body.

*Bella, Rookwood and Travers were back and were strong again. She simply needed to be pointed at something to burn off a bit of her anger.

*Peter's ability to find and remove Slughorn eliminated a very loose end. He should have thought to do it years ago, but it was completed. The fact that he'd been hiding, rather than under the old fool's protection led him to believe that he'd never told anyone about their conversation so many years back.

*Lucius managed to get appointed to the ICW, at least for now. When the war ramped up in the coming year, he would be in a good position to simply frame it to the world as nothing more than internal politics. Hopefully, the blond aristocrat would be able to keep outside interference from joining their fight.

On the downside, he counted:

*Potter's escape ruined what should have been a glorious evening.

*The loss of Barty Junior took some of the shine away from one of his crowning blows to Albus Dumbledore.

*The loss of the Parkinsons severely restricted his non-Malfoy access to funds. The loss of the two million pledged by Conrad limited his ability to hire expendable muscle.

*The loss of the Averys, Notts, Flints and Crabbes and Goyles took away some able-bodied henchmen. He had hoped to employ young Marcus to recruit the younger generation to join his cause.

*The loss of Fudge and Thicknesse would make it harder to have a co-operative Ministry.

*Finally the loss of Peter, who, poor wizard that he was, had found him and several others since.

Taking a large sip of single-malt from Lucius' stock, Riddle concluded that some of those losses were the result of years of soft-living and the fortunes of war. He chalked up the others to a change in attitude somewhere within the DMLE. None of his followers had been captured in the last month. All were killed. Bagnold and Crouch were flailing and grasping for straws in 1981. Now Bones and Scrimgeour seemed to have well-trained Aurors and Hitwizards, who had been unencumbered from Dumbledore's_ everyone needs ninety-nine chances_ litany of salvation. Fortunately, Lucius had been very successful at limiting their numbers in the years that he'd been gone. With enough hired muscle, he could easily win a war of attrition.

Bones and Scrimgeour would have to be taken care of.

ooo ccc ooo

The old scribe would like to acknowledge that his friend and long-time helper, Bill Gray wrote the Andromeda Tonks scene. He certainly gave the oldest sister some very sharp teeth. Thank you.

Unfortunately, McGonagall walked back into her office before the old scribe had left.

"A _Blushing Bride_, Mr. Crow…"

Several minutes later, a bald-headed Shih Tzu ran out of the office, yelping. As he was going, a flash of inspiration hit him and he quietly walked back in and lifted his leg on the leg of her desk before dashing out the door. Several hours later, Filch found a harried looking Mrs. Norris with a business card stuffed under her collar. The front said, McGonagall's a mean tabby. The back side read 10364683 - Harry-s-Golden-Nuggets.

Thanks to all who have taken a minute to leave a note or to recommend a worthy tale to read. We read every note and try to respond whenever possible.

… - …


	12. Dumbledore's Mistakes

… - …

**Chapter 12 – Dumbledore's Mistakes**

Friday 22 October

Minerva wouldn't exactly call it gloating; not from a young man who'd had what should have been a happy, loving childhood ripped away from him before he'd reached the age of two. Minerva wouldn't abide by students gloating.

At the same time, there was a spring in his step that hadn't been there just weeks before. Three of the four monsters who'd ruined his childhood were in the ground.

Neville had actually earned points in potions class in the past week. Between Snape no longer being in a position to bother the young man and the Lovegood girl paying attention to him, he was like a different student from the one who'd started fifth year a bit more than two months ago.

No, it wasn't gloating; rather flashes of self-confidence beginning to light up in the young man.

She smiled at the thought.

… - …

Anna remarked, "The muggle investigators have this thing called ballistic gel. It's supposed to have the texture and density of human flesh. I don't want to think about how they figured that out, but they did. I went out and bought a bunch."

She led her friend to the training range and said, "Now what I'd like you to do is to cast a piercing hex into block one."

Connie did and remarked, "That's pretty much what Katheryn Parkinson looked like."

Anna agreed and said, "Now I'd like you to cast into blocks two, three and four, just a second or two apart."

She did, and honestly looked a little red in the face after the last block had been pierced.

Anna said, "See the difference between them? The wounds that we saw on the Hogsmeade stinkers all resembled your blocks one and two."

Connie remarked, "So you're saying it was a younger witch or wizard who killed the stinkers; someone with a fair bit of stamina?" She raised her eyebrows suggestively at her much younger co-worker."

Anna ignored her friend's well-meaning barb. Connie must have tried to set her up twenty times in the past. She remarked, "If I didn't know better, I'd say that they'd been shot with a gun."

Connie didn't disregard Anna's remark. She had far too much respect for her colleague's observational and analytical skills. She replied, "It's possible, but Sweets, here's the dilemma - a wizard isn't going to shoot a gun. A muggle isn't going to walk into Hogsmeade, and either way, guns make a lot of noise. Nobody reported hearing anything like that in any of the four instances where the stinkers went down."

Accepting the logic in her colleague's response, Anna observed, "So what if it was a student, or someone who recently finished; some lad like Mike's brother Oliver casting hexes? That basically excluded anyone over fifty."

Connie asked, "So why haven't they come forward to collect their medal?"

"Maybe they didn't want to end up like Thicknesse."

Connie couldn't dispute that point. She asked, "So do you think we have an overzealous civilian, or a moonlighting Hitwizard?"

Anna replied, "I honestly don't know. It's almost like someone has been hunting these stinkers for the last month."

"Except there was always a Ministry person there – Nick in the Alley, Minister Diggory and John at Hogsmeade, and the Woods, Tonks, Shack and Rufus back in the alley and the Woods again the last time. No one's reported a guardian angel helping them out."

"I know. Let's go talk with Amelia."

…-…

Amelia asked, "So you're saying that there's a possibility that we have a civilian who has been helping us out?"

Anna replied, "It is an idea, I haven't taken off of the table yet."

"What about a moonlighting Hitwizard? The piercing hex is their tool of choice. Since Thicknesse had them on shifts, there wouldn't have been a time when they were all accounted for."

Amelia added, "There's Dumbledore's Bird Club. Someone could have gotten frustrated with the Headmaster's _everyone deserves 600 chances_ routine and actually gone on the offensive." Her thought immediately went to Sirius Black.

Connie replied, "That's the problem. The extra wand theory works pretty well, at least at Hogsmeade. We just don't know who is helping us."

Anna admitted, "We don't _know_ that anyone is. There were no unaccounted hexes at the stinkers in Diagon Alley on 9 October. There's every evidence, in spite of Tonks' blunder that Pettigrew and the Lestranges killed each other on 15 October. The numbers could have worked on 23 September with Nick and the Parkinsons. It's just Hogsmeade on 9 October that doesn't fit. The problem at the village is that there were three hundred people there who could have cast a hex or two at them. Anyone could have been disillusioned in the crowd, or under an invisibility cloak and not have been seen."

Amelia thought for a moment and asked, "Let me ask you both this - so hypothetically, if a civilian were to hex Riddle, Bellatrix or the Malfoys and put them in the ground, who in this room would go after them?"

Connie and Anna looked at each other. Neither said a word.

Amelia replied, "I thought so. I wouldn't either, and I'm certain that Michelle, Rufus or Amos wouldn't either. So short of wishing them luck, what do we do?"

… - …

As Minerva was thinking kind thoughts about Neville Longbottom, an owl fluttered down in front of Harry, Susan and Hermione, who were having breakfast together. The lucky owl received two treats and flew off after Harry took the letter that it had offered. He opened it and read,

_Harry,_

_I know we haven't spent a lot of time together. I honestly am glad that your circumstances finally gave you the sort of family that you deserve. As your Godfather, I need to give you some information that is important for you to know. All I can say is that I solemnly swear that everything here is the truth; at least to the best of my belief._

As she was reading over his shoulder, Susan sniggered to herself, _Oh Lord, he's going to give Harry "the talk" by letter._ She became much more serious as she continued reading.

_The fall before you were born, an out-of-work, fraud applied for a job at the school. She pulled a fast one on Dumbledore and conveniently made a "Prophecy," just as her job interview was going badly. She stated that someone born at the end of July would have the power to vanquish Riddle. The exact wording is immaterial and is completely open to interpretation. It may have applied to you; it may have applied to anyone whose birthday is late July. It may well have been fulfilled that night in 1981. Divination is a lot of second guessing. Trelawney is too much of a drunk to be an oracle._

_The second thing to know is that Snakeface didn't die that night because he'd split his soul and put the other half in a container that served as an anchor in case something happened to him. A very small number of people know this. The completely disgusting part is that he did it more than once – perhaps a handful of times, perhaps a few more._

_Here's the important part. You destroyed one of these shitvaults when you killed the basilisk in the chamber of secrets. That diary that let the image of Riddle out was one; probably the first or second one that he made._

_Finding these is not your responsibility._

_Now Dumbledore believes that your scar is one. I believe that your scar __was__ one. It's gone and probably is the exact reason why, when you told me that your magic changed a month ago._

_There are three take-aways from this;_

_*The prophecy does not have any power over how you live your life._

_*Finding these shitvaults (horcruxes) is not your job. DD and other adults are working on it and have made good progress._

_*You do not have a slice of Snakeface in you._

_Dumbledore has lost his nut if he ever tells you anything to the contrary. _Not your job, no control over you, anything that may have been there is gone.

_A lot of really smart people have vastly differing opinions as to what these shitboxes actually do and what happens when they're destroyed. __DD doesn't know__. Nobody does._

_That's the truth. Harry, don't let him suck you into this. Your job is to be fifteen. Have some fun at quidditch, drive Slytherin into the pitch and learn what there is to learn about Ms. Bones. You'll be lord and master of the Potter holdings soon enough._

_Read this again. Show it to Hermione and Susan. They won't lead you wrong._

_SB_

After a minute of silence, Susan quietly remarked, "I agree with every word that he wrote. You have much to learn." She kissed his ear.

Hermione initially wanted to say something in defense of the Headmaster, but thought about Harry's ability to use any of the used wands and softly added, "I do too." Then she asked, "Susan, are you going to say anything to your Aunt?"

Sue replied, "I'm sure he'll think about it, but it's Harry's story to tell."

… - …

"Welcome back, Minister. Are you certain that you should be up yet?"

"I lost a leg, Ludo, not my will to carry on. Everyone works on Friday. There's no need to spend your weekends in a staff meeting. Plan on meeting every other Friday from nine to noon in the future."

Everyone nodded in complete agreement. Diggory asked, "Ludo, anything new?"

"Nothing much. Game attendance is on plan. Birmingham has a reserve position open."

"Basil Debit, anything from finance?"

The bespectacled finance director replied, "Actually yes, and this effects Dirk and Amelia as well. With the deaths of the Parkinsons, Goyles, Notts, Averys, Flints and Crabbes, legacy tax is significantly over budget. Also affected are bonus payments specifically designated to the DMLE. Let me give you one example. Conrad and Kathryn Parkinson left an estate which the Goblins valued at ten million galleons. Since they were killed in the middle of a drug deal, the Crown imposed a fifty percent seizure fine. An additional ten percent of the gross estate value goes to the arresting agency. In this case, that's five million to the Crown and one million to the DMLE. There is the estate fee on disposition of an estate of four percent, or four-hundred thousand galleons imposed by Gringotts. Finally the four percent legacy tax yields the Ministry four –hundred thousand galleons."

Debit continued, "Summing the seizures and fines among the families, the DMLE has one million forty thousand extra to spend and the general fund of the ministry almost six-hundred thousand. To fund the fines and taxes, the Parkinsons and Goyle properties were sold at auction."

"Amos replied, "That was excellent news. Anything else?"

Basil replied, "That will do for now."

"Dirk?"

"No. Basil and I worked most of the week with The Nation."

"Amelia?"

"Everything of consequence has been in the newspaper. We suspect that it was Bellatrix who took her revenge out on Thicknesse."

Amos suggested, "Perhaps it wasn't wise that he was specifically mentioned in the _Prophet."_

"He was dirty."

"Ah, that explains it." He considered her response for a minute and inquired, "Anyone else?"

Now it was Amelia's turn to consider an answer. She replied, "One." She had her wand out, under the table, just in case.

Amos considered her answer for a moment. She hadn't named a name, implying that it could be one of the people in the room. He nodded slightly and changed the subject. "Have you begun posting for the necessary replacements?"

"Yes. Surprisingly, I've received a dozen CVs in the last few days."

Amos replied, "Hire them all, if they pass muster. There was quite a bit extra from the games last summer."

Basil remarked, "Minister Fudge had allocated nearly two thirds of that to increase Regulation of Magical Creatures."

"Line that out and set them back to the '92 numbers. I won't fund that toad's vendetta, on a legacy basis."

The finance man nodded and replied, "You need to appoint an Undersecretary soon and also reaffirm Lucius' appointment. That's just routine."

"Dirk, do you have staff that can replace you?"

"Yes."

"Do you want the job?"

"No."

"Good. I didn't either. I'd like you to take it, but spend a day or two to think it over. Stop by Monday morning. Regarding Lucius, Basil, prepare a notice that states his services were appreciated, but are no longer needed. We're not having Death Eaters represent us. I'll appoint someone before the December meeting. That's all. Amelia, please stay a minute."

The others left and Amelia closed the door and cast a charm, dispelling any listening charms. She remarked, "You should do that more often. Too many people are interested in what you're doing, who you're seeing and where you're planning on going."

Amos asked, "The person that you mentioned; how certain are you?"

"Ninety-nine percent."

"Who?"

"Michelle Edgecombe."

"What can I do to help?"

She replied, "Sack her."

He nodded and replied, "Better yet, bring her in for questioning. Bring in all of the Heads, one at a time for a Veritaserum interview." He scribbled a dozen words on a parchment and signed it. "Here's your authorization. Also question me, and have Rufus question you."

Within minutes, Michelle Edgecombe was stunned, disarmed, doused with the truth potion and had admitted supplying the portkey chain that was used to help the Azkaban prisoners escape. Unfortunately, her contact had been Peter Pettigrew, so they didn't get any new leads. She was charged with being an accessory to the murder of the six Aurors and agreed to a plea bargained sentence of six years in Azkaban. The fifty-thousand galleons that had been her payment was confiscated. By the time that Connie and Anna were having their afternoon tea, Michelle was residing in the cell previously occupied by Bellatrix.

… - …

At the same time that Minister Diggory was having his meeting, Lord Ragnok was having his. The Goblin Chieftain's meeting room was sparse. A dozen cut granite blocks that had been hewn onto Goblin size chairs comprised the entirety of the furnishings. There was no table to hide weapons or pass gold unseen. The various Account Managers and Department Heads gave reports containing useful information or simply said, _next._ There was no allowance for fluff.

When it was Sneerwell's turn, he simply stated, "Everything is going according to plan. Net proceeds this month are four-hundred-fifty-thousand. The proceeds from the most recent transaction have not been finalized."

Ragnok replayed the spoken and unspoken words. Clearly Sneerwell did not trust Stonegrinder. Then again, there was next to no direct risk with Sneerwell's plan. Besides, he only requested ten percent of the proceeds. He'd have been willing to offer the Head Teller as much as thirteen percent. He inquired, "And for the rest of the year?"

Sneerwell replied, "Similar results are anticipated."

Ragnok nodded. Initially he'd been skeptical of Sneerwell's plan to aid the two muggles. Yet they had effectively been waging war against the same wizards who would have eventually brought war against The Nation. Riddle had been very close last time. The fact that the caretakers of the Potter boy were the ones waging the war was delicious to his taste. Best yet, with every success on the caregiver's part, The Nation not only eliminated an enemy, but was also paid for performing very little work. Sneerwell had been paid an extra four years' salary as a bonus and The Nation had benefitted. He said, "We will meet again in two weeks."

… - …

Lucius had been expecting the call for nearly a month. With the death of the Parkinsons followed by the Averys and Notts, he knew that the Dark Lord would be back to shake the tree, so-to-speak. On a pre-emptive basis, he'd had his personal elf go to his vault and withdraw another half-million galleons. He arrived, carrying his own glass of single-malt with the elf at his side.

Riddle saw him come in, glanced at the elf that was obviously carrying a large amount of gold. Then he noticed the glass and suppressed a laugh. He said, "Lucius, I'm pleased to see you. Come in."

Looking at the chest, he added, "Thank you for making next year's contribution early. I would like your advice on a few small matters. Let me pour you, well, let me refill your glass."

He filled Lucius' glass and took a small serving himself. Riddle was not a man who desired an opulent lifestyle. He never dressed in the elegant/garish robes, like Dumbledore wore. In fact, he spent fifteen minutes, showing the aristocrat his financial journal. In addition to Malfoy's contributions, now totaling a million galleons, all of the other followers except Pettigrew had paid or arranged to pay tribute. Unfortunately, the two-million galleon donation that Conrad had promised had never been finalized.

As far as disbursements, Riddle had directed the purchase of a hundred wands, potions and obscure ingredients, payments to Thicknesse, Amslowe and Edgecombe as well as a few thousand paid to Pettigrew. Lucius was astonished at the openness that the Dark Lord had shown. After several minutes, Riddle asked, "Would you have any chance of success bringing Parkinson's note to Gringotts?"

Lucius considered his question carefully and replied, "Possibly. I will go and talk with Stonegrinder. He's helped our cause in the past."

Not wanting to take the risk of his primary benefactor being cut off at the bank again, he replied, "Do not jeopardize your overall standing with them. I'm not trying to amass a pile of galleons that will sit and gather dust. I want to avoid shedding our own blood. We had losses that day in Diagon Alley. We achieved our objective, but at a cost. Anytime that we get into a direct confrontation with the Aurors, we will lose as many as we take. I would prefer that our losses are paid for with hired help, rather than needlessly shedding any more pure blood."

He continued, "I will be directing Severus to go to Bucharest and initially recruit twenty-five men for hire. I believe that we would both rather spend our precious resources that way than make any more orphans within Slytherin house. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Absolutely."

"Riddle continued, "I will send Binks to deliver my message to Stonegrinder. We will probably have to physically go there with Bella when the Lestranges' Wills are read. Thank you again for your contributions, Lucius. We have a good cause and one that will succeed."

Lucius replied, "Thank you. You have a good plan, my Lord."

… - …

As she sat out in her back garden enjoying a few hours of excellent weather, Narcissa Malfoy reflected on her sister, Bellatrix. Bella had been described in many ways in her life – in terms such as quick, sadistic, cruel, vicious, brutally effective, psychopath and frequently a sociopath. One term that she would never used to describe her sister was patient. After her husband and brother-in-law left that day, five minutes turned into ten, which turned into twenty, which soon had become an hour.

Narcissa replayed out the script in her mind. Five minutes to get to the bank, five minutes with Stonegrinder, ten minutes in the vault and another five or so to leave. They should have been back within a half hour. Even a longer discussion with the goblin shouldn't have taken more than ten extra minutes. There wouldn't have been time for the Aurors to capture Peter, Imperious him and get him into position to attack Rodolphus and Rabastan.

It was the wizarding wireless that had finally brought them the news. Bella had flown into a rage. She had immediately stormed out onto the grounds and killed a pair of white peacocks, which had somehow offended her.

It was only Scrimgeour's announcement that Pius Thicknesse deserved the credit for slaying the three wizards that refocused her.

When people looked for Thicknesse the next Monday, they found pieces strewn all around his back garden. Apparently merely quartering him wasn't enough to satisfy her bloodlust.

Within the DMLE, the incident was never officially discussed. They took care of their own. If Connie and Anna were inclined to complain that the evidence and crime scene of the Diagon Alley slayings had been so contaminated that conclusively determining the cause of death for the three men was impossible, they never spoke of it to Amelia.

... - …

Saturday 23 October

"You wished to see me, My Lord?"

"Yes, Severus. Sit down. Would you like a glass of Single-Malt? It's very good."

"Please. Thank you. How can I help you?"

Riddle handed Snape his glass. He considered the similarities between the younger man and himself. He respected the man's abilities and passion towards his craft. It was unfortunate that he possessed such an unpleasant disposition. It would hinder him in the task at hand. He said, "I would like you to search out and recruit some talent for us."

Severus asked, "Are you referring to those who've recently finished Hogwarts?"

"No. Not at this time. I'm looking for twenty or so wizards, or witches if you must, but primarily men, who Bella can point at targets and have them cause havoc and put our enemies in the ground."

"What's your budget, timetable and duration of the agreement?"

Riddle remarked, "There is a place for those who earn Os, Es and As. I can spend one hundred thousand galleons a month for three months. You can have the difference, but I'm expecting mostly Es. Given that, I suggest recruiting from Bucharest. I'd like them in place and ready to fight within a month. Additionally I'd like an extra cauldron full of your powerful strengthening potion. I've felt better since I began taking it. What questions do you have?"

"Who will test and train them?"

My initial thought was Bella; however I don't want you to start with twenty and have her kill fifteen of them herself. Twenty minimum, twenty-five maximum. I'll pay them on the first of every month."

Snape asked, "And those that live?"

'We may continue to rent their services, we may choose to have them join our cause, or we may pay them and send them on their way. We will not renege on our agreements. As much as possible, we're waging a civil war, not organized crime."

"Most of them will not see the new year."

"True, but we cannot afford to end any more Slytherin families. We can target a handful or two of those who are actively working against our cause. When we are successful, then others will willingly join our side, or at least stay out of our way. Send a report in two weeks. In December, I'll have you go find a second batch. Thank you, Severus."

… - …

Dan and Ben carefully closed the window from the second-hand shop. They'd spent nine hours in the little room and hadn't seen any of the Death Eaters. They put the equipment away efficiently.

Ben commented, "We didn't see anyone here Thursday either. Let's try one of the other places next time."

"Sounds good," commented Dan. "Let's go home. It's your night to buy dinner."

… - …

Sunday 24 October

"Luna, I think I've figured it out."

"The Kama Sutra pressed position?"

"No, cherry tomatoes."

"How so?"

"If we can cross a cherry tomato plant with my mimbletonia, we should have a plant that would be irresistible to your snorkaks. In season, you could go to Finland and plant them. Within a few weeks, you'd attract every snorkak within a hundred miles."

She beamed at him and replied, "Thank you Neville. It feels really nice to have found a young man who believes in me. Will you help me get some started? We could take some pictures along the way and have something for Daddy to publish next summer. Then we can review the black bee."

"OK. We could start on them this afternoon."

"Thank you Neville." She wrapped her arms around the unconfident teen and kissed him for everything that he was worth.

… - …

As breakfast ended, Harry stood and gathered his stuff purposefully. Something about his manner made Hermione question him. "What's going on, Harry?"

"Dumbledore wants to see me. Remember that little second year 'Puff who caught me as you were heading to the library before curfew?"

Hermione's brow had knitted as soon as the word Dumbledore left Harry's lips. She nodded.

"It was a note from him asking me to see him this morning after breakfast."

By now, Susan had been standing within earshot long enough to hear the gist of the exchange. "Oh, no, Harry! I bet he tries to—"

"Relax, Susan—you, too, Hermione," Harry cut across her with a grin. "I have Sirius's letter right here. I've been practicing."

The girls had been giggling helplessly, at least up until Harry related the exchange about the suicide mission. Suddenly, the tears in their eyes were no longer caused by laughter.

When Harry finished his narrative, Hermione's hug was a split second faster than Susan's, but both were of epic strength and ferocity. In later years, Harry would tease them that had they hit simultaneously, he might well have died on the spot.

"You just remember your lines, Harry!" Hermione beamed.

Susan's final admonition was even more memorable. She pressed against him and said, "And don't forget _them!"_ She planted a searing kiss on his lips and warned him, "Dead Potters don't get any more of those!"

"Come in, Harry," came Dumbledore's answer to Harry's knock. "Please come, my dear boy. Lemon drop?"

"No, thank you, sir. What did you want to see me about?" asked Harry.

Dumbledore's poker face never wavered, but inwardly he sighed. His approach to this vital interview was dashed by Harry's direct approach. He hated directness with a passion—directness seldom afforded the obliquity needed to persuade people into seeing their necessary role to promote the greater good. Nothing for it, though; his passive Legilimency scan of Harry showed impatience and determination to get back to his friends. He steepled his hands together on the surface of his desk and calmly said, "Harry, I need your help."

"My help? In what way, Headmaster?"

"Harry, before you were born, a seer made a prophecy concerning you and Voldemort. It isn't widely known, but it comes down to you against him."

Silence. Harry had been taught that the first to speak in a negotiation usually gives something up.

"Harry, you are the wizarding world's only hope against him."

"It's not my job, Headmaster," replied Harry, using his best matter-of-fact tone.

Using his best grandfather voice, the old man explained, "But Harry, you don't understand. No one can defeat him unless you do your part." Fawkes shook his head in disbelief.

"Really? And what would my part be?"

Dumbledore's wince was visible this time. He had hoped that the prestige of being essential, of being the literal savior or the wizarding world would appeal to Harry and make him at least a little more tractable. Damned directness! "Harry, have you ever wondered why Voldemort was able to return in the graveyard? I assure you that it is not possible for wizards and witches to return from the dead. So have you not wondered how he did what he did?"

Harry knew better than to let Dumbledore awe him. He went for nonchalance: "We just figured it was how Horcruxes work, Headmaster. Makes him harder to kill. Maybe people cannot come back from the dead, but with his Horcruxes, he wasn't completely dead, is he?"

Dumbledore's vision almost greyed out. "Harry! Where did you learn about those abominations! Who have you told?" demanded the old professor.

Harry shrugged, "Well, Susan and Hermione, of course. There might have been others listening in in the Great Hall when I read the letter to them. And there's really no telling who Sirius has told. He seemed a bit upset in his letter. Susan might have mentioned them when she wrote her Aunt or the Investigators. It's hard to say for sure, Professor. Who have _you_ told?"

Dumbledore sagged. "Harry, do you know what a Horcrux is? It's a piece of Voldemort's very soul, separated from the rest by the very foulest of magics and placed into a container? Do you realize what can happen when that piece of his vile soul exerts its influence on others?"

Harry shrugged again, "Well, duh! You get Ginny killing roosters and sending a basilisk out to attack the rest of us."

Dumbledore nodded sagely, "That's right, Harry, my boy. And that was just the beginning. Voldemort's soul also possessed Quirrell and was powerful enough to reanimate a homunculus in the graveyard, as you saw for yourself! "The only way Voldemort can be destroyed is to first destroy all his Horcruxes! And that's where I need your help to save us all."

"It's not my responsibility."

"No, Harry, it should not be your responsibility. But Fate has placed this burden upon you."

"No. It's _not_ my responsibility, Headmaster, I'm fifteen."

"I know, Harry. I am sorrier than I could ever tell you that this burden is yours."

Completely ignoring his pitch, Harry politely inquired, "Headmaster, why aren't _you_ going after him?

"Harry, the prophecy says it must be you!"

"As far as that goes, didn't he begin killing people when he was like fifteen? How many chances did you give _him_? Headmaster, why would you send a schoolboy after the worst Dark wizard in the past several hundred years?"

"Because of the prophecy! It said that the one with the power to destroy the dark lord would be born _as the seventh month dies_. Harry, you were born on 31 July—the end of the seventh month."

"So were millions of people; Captain Scrimgeour and Hermione's Grandpa were too. So what? Do I look like Merlin? I haven't even finished school! He has decades of study and work behind him!"

"But Harry, it must be you. The prophecy—"

Harry cut across him, "Isn't it _your_ job to protect students, not to send them on suicide missions, Headmaster? Run him over with a truck and ask him how it feels."

Dumbledore was brought up short. He sighed heavily and continued, "Harry, it is, in this terrible case, precisely my job to send you on a suicide mission. For your scar is also a Horcrux and it must also be destroyed. And only a killing curse to you from Voldemort himself can destroy his Horcrux in your scar."

Harry rolled his eyes. Sirius was a better seer than Trelawney. "Professor, do you _see_ a scar on my head? Did you not _hear_ about the fall I took that scraped all the skin off my forehead_, including the scar?_ Do you not _know_ that my magic changed suddenly a month ago? I can cast with far greater precision and accuracy, and my power has increased. Even my grades are better; for some reason, it's much easier for me to concentrate in class, so I'm finally understanding the theory in addition to the practical work. "I _do not_ have a piece of Voldemort in my head! Maybe I did once, but you can thank the Slytherin beaters for grinding the skin that held it off my head and Madam Pomfrey for healing it back _without_ the fecking scar!" Now he was getting wound up.

"Professor, you don't _send_ me anywhere. I'm not your little soldier. Speaking of the basilisk, Professor, if you wrote me a 50,000 galleon bank draft every Sunday for the next four years starting today… we _still_ wouldn't be even. Thanks a lot."

Harry was sick of arguing and he was more interested in another hug with Susan, or maybe a bit more. He stood and restated, "For the last time: _You_ are supposed to be the greatest wizard of the age. Voldemort is _your_ problem. Hell, he was probably _your_ student. Deal with it!"

Harry was too annoyed with the old man to do the courtesy of closing the door after storming out of his office. Fawkes gave the old man a disappointed look and flew off, dropping a fish head on the polished desk.

The old professor knew he'd never talk Harry into accepting his prophesized destiny; not in the time that he had remaining. Harry was simply too young to accept his fate. He'd have to speak with Sirius.

… - …

Monday 25 October

"Ok, Minister. So where do we start?"

"This is right up your street, Dirk. We need to fix things up with the goblins."

"Officially or unofficially?"

"Probably both."

Dirk asked, "What are you looking for?"

Amos replied, "I want to offer them terms similar to what the Parkinsons got themselves into for all of the marked Death Eaters."

Dirk thought for a moment and replied, "If the goblins were seen as confiscating gold for themselves, it would lead to legitimate anger directed at them. In Parkinson's case, The Nation was simply following the law. My recommendation would be that we check if they have a similar confiscation plan for specific terrorists. If so, we simply state that the marked Death Eaters are officially designated terrorists. It wouldn't even have to go through the Wizengamot; Executive Order would do. Then you offer them a fourth of the Ministry piece. What you're looking for is notification that they have one in the bank. As soon as they hit the street, we nab them."

"How does arresting them trigger the estate disposition?"

"It doesn't, in of itself, but the fines could be imposed."

"So if they were arrested several times, they'd be wiped out?"

Dirk remarked, "That would be a tragedy, wouldn't it?"

Amos speculated, "So if they happened to send Amelia a letter commenting that someone reported having lost a galleon outside the bank, it would simply be correspondence between two magicals."

Dirk remarked, "I'll make it so."

As he was getting ready to leave, Amos asked him, "So who is your pick for a replacement?"

Cresswell replied, "Keep an open mind for a moment. My candidate is highly motivated to succeed in the position. They'd be willing to work flexible hours, is articulate, well read and well known by the younger generation."

"OK, who did you have in mind?"

"Remus Lupin."

Amos thought, _Of course, everything that he said was true. Cedric had spoken highly of the man and had expressed disappointment when he left. Obviously the appointment would be controversial, but it feels like the right thing to do_. He replied, "I like the qualities that you mentioned. Let's soften the blow to the hard-liners and make him Interim Head for a while. He might not like the work, it would be less of a spit in the face to Kirkland, who might have been expecting the nod and it doesn't have to be announced to the _Prophet_."

Dirk replied, "I like the idea. I'll contact him today."

ooo ccc ooo

The old scribe was beyond grateful for all of the notes that the other scribes and their friends had sent. However, he had no inclination to spend any more time sniffing things, so he walked into McGonagall's office with the latest report stuffed under his collar. After a minute she noticed that he'd hopped up onto one of the wooden chairs looking hopeful. After a moment, she took mercy on him and was about to go into yet another rant about Harry's activities with Susan, when she noticed that he'd already left.

She noticed that in addition to the neatly written report, there was also a card that read, _10300874 - Weary-Wizard. _Unfortunately, she wasn't watching where she was walking until she realized that she'd just stepped into something unpleasant.

Equally unfortunate was the fact that she had a long memory.

Author Note – Aside from the painting in the PM's office, is there any canon evidence that the Queen is aware of the magical world? I've read several fantastic tales where she was, but don't recall a mention in book six or seven. Ideas?

… - …


	13. I Hate Gray

… - …

**Chapter 13 – I Hate Gray**

Tuesday 26 October

Hitwizard Wood reread the message for the fourth time.

_Michelle, stop in and see me tomorrow morning._

_Director Bones_

She could envision the rant, _Why didn't you stun them? Destruction of private property. Excessive use of force._

She was sure she'd either be bounced back to the night shift or stuck on personal protection duty for the next three years. Worse still, she'd probably be reassigned to twelve-hour shifts at Azkaban. She was angry and frustrated before she'd even reached Bones' office. Randi Bell's pleasant greeting of "Good morning, would you like some tea?" did nothing to sway her mindset.

She sat and waited.

Traditionally, there were eight hitwizards (male or female) in the department. One was designated Captain of the Guard. It was nothing more than a ceremonial title. It simply designated day shift protection detail for the Minister. John Dawlish had held the position. One was assigned to the Minister, working the night shift. One was the Division Captain. All of the hitwizards reported to him. Pius was the last Captain. The other five worked their shifts – usually with a rotating partner. It was a stupid way of organizing the department.

"Director Bones will see you now."

Wood walked into the office and was a bit surprised to see Connie and Anna in the room as well.

"Please have a seat, Michelle. I'll be ready in a moment," announced Anna after she slowly poured the silver thread out of the stoppered crystal vile marked _Graveyard_ into the bowl. She continued, "Take a good look at this."

A few minutes later she emerged from the dish and willingly accepted the half full glass of Ogden's that Connie handed her.

Amelia remarked, "In anticipation of your first question, yes, it is real. That thing that calls himself the Dark Lord Voldemort, whose real name is Tom Riddle has returned and the twenty-two marked Death Eaters, who we believe represents almost his entire group rejoined him. Well Captain Wood, what are your thoughts?"

The last part caught her by surprise. She replied, "First, thank you. I was expecting something different. My thoughts are; we're two short and given that the most recent cadet class was wiped out at Azkaban, we'll probably stay that way for a while. Mike will get the Captain of the Guard spot unless the Aurors can take over that duty for six months. We'll drop the notion of shifts and go back to working as a unit; in this case a unit of four. Is that what you had in mind, Director?"

Amelia smiled and Connie handed her a galleon over some nameless bet. She polished her monocle and replied, "If you can think of anyone outside the department to recruit, you may do so. Otherwise, the current recruit class is just forming and won't be ready to be picked over for a few months." She added, "I'd take Executive guard duty off of your plate, except I worry about Minister Diggory's mobility. He's doing a lot to help us. We don't want to lose him. What other questions do you have?"

"Rules of engagement?"

"They've restarted a war that won't end until Riddle is dead and out of followers, or we're dead. If they're in Death Eater garb, put them down. If they're in their regular robes and they draw their wands, put them down. I want you to take good care of your team. The job pays what it pays, but we can afford to buy brooms or other worthwhile equipment. I don't like surprises, so I'd prefer to know if you're planning an operation before I read about it in the _Daily Prophet_. Did I answer your question?"

"Perfectly, Director. Thank you."

Amelia nodded and added, "My staff meeting is every other Monday morning at eight. The next one is next Monday. I don't expect you to be in your office all day. Your team needs you. Carry on, Captain."

… - …

While Michelle was waiting to see Amelia, Hedwig landed in front of Harry and held out her leg. Harry dutifully offered her a piece of his morning bacon, which she took before turning to Hermione to see what she'd offer. Seeing nothing coming, the wise owl flew over to Susan, who pulled a grub out of a small bag in her pocket.

Hermione scooted closer to Harry and they read the letter together.

_H&H,_

_Mum had her monthly CAT scan last week. It showed more brain activity than the last time. Dr. Krebbs was encouraged by that. Ben stops up; usually on Thursdays and Saturdays. We have dinner together at the Black Dog and take care of things._

_Alyson, the new hygienist has been busy. She must have brought some patients with her, since there seem to be plenty of new faces in the clinic. Ami has been arranging lunch most days._

_I'm glad that you had fun at that restaurant that Ben recommended. He suggested that you go again and that I buy lunch again. Here's fifty galleons. You said it was next Saturday, right? I hope the weather is good for you._

_Hermione, has that Draco boy been bothering you this year? I hope not._

_Harry, when is your game with Ravenclaw? Did they win their first game?_

_Miss you both,_

_Dad_

_And Grandpa Ben too__ – Harry, buy that girl some flowers and candy._

Harry quipped, "He's funny. I'm glad that they're keeping each other company until mum wakes up."

Hermione had a sad look on her face, but replied, "Me too. I have to go get my books. You start the letter back. I'll see you in Runes."

… - …

"Ah, Lucius. Just the man I wanted to see."

"Good afternoon, Minister." He glanced at the two hitwizards who were standing by Diggory and asked, "How may I assist you?"

To the point, Diggory replied, "I wanted to let you know that I've appointed someone else to be our representative at the ICW. I thought it would be better to tell you in person than to send an awkwardly worded memo."

Lucius carefully replied, "I see."

Diggory added, "It's basically the same logic that Fudge employed. Every minister wants his own man as their representative. It's not personal; simply different viewpoints and style. Well, I won't keep you. Enjoy your day."

Malfoy drawled, "You too, Minister."

Amos did his best to walk into his office and when he was seated called, "Good afternoon, Arthur. Come in."

"How can I help you, Minister?"

"I have a vacancy available for our representative to the ICW."

Arthur replied, "I understand," though he clearly didn't."

Diggory replied, "Arthur, you're known as the Ministry expert on muggles. How did you acquire that information?"

"First hand, mostly."

"I see. I've just a few questions to start with. Who is John Major?"

"I don't know. The twins never mention him. I'll find out for you." He wrote the name down on his pocket pad of paper that he was so proud of.

"How about James Bond?"

"I'll find out."

"Where is the Titanic?"

"I'm not sure. I'll find out."

"Who was the first man on the moon?"

Arthur thought, _Good heavens, did they use a portkey?_ He wisely replied, "I'll find out."

"Where is Sydney?"

"I don't know a Sydney. Can you give me a last name? I'll find out."

"Where would you get a Big Mac?"

"We've never met. I'll try to find him."

"What is a 747?"

"I don't know, Minister, but I'll find out."

"Arthur, we're less than a tenth of a percent of the population in the UK; maybe one in two or three thousand. We expect that an eleven year old child who just learned about magic in the last few weeks will learn our spells and our culture in seven years. Yet most of us choose to remain completely ignorant about the other 99.9 percent of our world. How can that be?"

Not waiting for a reply, he continued. "I'm going to assign you to a temporary duty for the next six weeks. I want you to go to the local and the London libraries every day for four hours a day." He handed him a sheet of paper with fifty questions on it and added, "I didn't know most of them myself until Cedric dragged me out on Saturdays. Look up the answers to these questions. Read about them. Go to a movie twice a week. Bring Molly along, if you want. Here's a packet of muggle currency for expenses. I don't expect an accounting of it, but I do expect results."

The father of seven sat there looking at the paper, speechless, with his belief in himself seriously shaken. Amos asked, "Any questions?"

"Just one to start; where is the local library?"

Amos was glad that the next ICW meeting wasn't until December.

… - …

"Hi, Susan. Can we talk for a bit?"

"Sure Hermione. Here or someplace else?"

"Maybe the unused classroom by the Runes room. I was hoping we wouldn't be bothered for a few minutes." They walked past two suits of armor and two magical paintings. Sir Cadogan was apparently on a quest to chat up a young maiden in one of the paintings.

They walked in and Hermione brought up the lights while Susan closed the door and put a simple anti-eavesdropping charm on it. She asked, "What's on your mind?"

"I've been thinking about what we'll be doing after we finish Hogwarts."

The strawberry blond remarked, "OWLs and NEWTs on your mind already? They're months away."

Hermione replied, "No, at least not this time. The incident at Gringotts last summer; it's going to follow me forever, isn't it?. I'm not sure if Malfoy or his ilk would see me any differently five or fifteen years from now."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll always be an uppity mudblood in their eyes. Look at the Ministry – Mr. Diggory, Mr. Scrimgeour, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Cresswood, Mr. Bagman, Umbridge, your Aunt, Edgecombe, Marchbanks. Every department head is a pureblood. I'm not saying that they're bad people, but statistically, that can't be just a random occurrence, given that the overall magical makeup in Britain is about a third each – pureblood, half and those classed as first generation. If the Ministry is primarily populated by purebloods, where do the first generation witches and wizards go?"

Susan thought about her friend's question. Honestly, it wasn't the conversation that she thought Hermione would bring up. She replied, "From what I've heard, they go into business, they work in the muggle government, they marry other witches or wizards, or they go away. The only wizarding world jobs that have a fair share of wizarding world jobs that have a fair share of first generation witches are St. Mungo's and working in the Department of Mysteries with Mr. Croaker. What's this really about, Hermione?"

"I was thinking about my great grandmother. Grandpa Ben said that she worked at St. Mungo's."

Susan replied, "You should find out her name and ask Griselda Marchbanks about her. She's old enough that they might have been in class together. So what's this really about?"

Hermione finally admitted, "Hogsmeade."

"What? I thought we were all going to have lunch at the Flying Horse again. Did you want to do something else?"

"No. Yes. That's just it; you and Harry are going, Neville and Luna are going, I…"

"Hermione, its just lunch. Come by yourself, or snag someone to come along. Just don't bring Ron Weasley. Watching him eat turns my stomach, and I'm sick of him staring at my boobs."

"Sue, everyone stares at your boobs."

"I just got mine a year early. Yours will probably be the same as your mums. She's got a fantastic figure. Then he can stare at yours."

"Brilliant. Like Harry says, what's second prize?"

The tension broken, they laughed together. Susan reiterated, "Come alone, or bring someone. Harry's made the reservation; you pick the window this time."

"Thanks. For everything."

"No worries, Chum. I've gotta get going. I need to finish my Runes essay."

Hermione walked back to the Gryffindor common room and was just about to climb in when Colin was walking out. Unsurprisingly he asked, "Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this Saturday?"

For a moment, she saw something different. Instead of the annoying first year that he'd been, she imagined a glimpse of that man that he would become. She liked what she saw and replied, "I've got plans for lunch with Harry and Susan, and Neville and Luna. I'd love for you to come with us."

"Like a date?"

"Yes, Colin. Like a date. Is that all right?" she replied indulgently.

"OK, but I can't stay too long."

Curious, and a little disappointed, she inquired, "How come?"

"Mr. Cuffe wants me to take more pictures. I've got a new Nikon and he sent me a whole box of film."

"That's very smart of him. You take excellent photographs. So nine on Saturday with lunch at half eleven. You'll be done by one. OK?"

Colin nodded, looked at her a moment and replied, "Thanks, Hermione."

… - …

Wednesday 27 October

Dan opened the letter that Harry's owl offered him and read:

_Dan,_

_School is much better this year. We're learning loads of useful stuff in potions. Professor Tonks is so much easier to understand than that turd, Snape was. She explains stuff using regular words. Sue gave me a book that explains why the different reactions take place. I bought Hermione a copy. Sue's really nice. I like her a lot. Tell Grandpa Ben that I'll buy her flowers and candy this Saturday when we go for lunch. Thanks for the extra galleons. We'll treat._

_Runes class is fun too, but I'll let Hermione tell about that._

_The Ravenclaw game is in two weeks. Their seeker's a girl named Cho. She's been on their team since my third year. Honestly, she's not that good. She tends to follow too much. You don't win many games playing defense and hoping for a lucky break. I'll save some room on the page for Hermione. Have a good week. Miss you. Love, Harry_

_Dad, _

_We're finally covering an introduction to wards in runes class. We started with a basic intruder ward – something like a motion detector alarm. It was pretty simple, but it was a start._

_You asked about Draco. I was surprised that you remembered his name. His/their behavior has been bi-polar this year. One day they're arrogant bastards and the next, they're quiet and civil. Most days, I don't believe that their privileged attitudes will ever change. It's as if they're the poster children of an inbreeding pamphlet._

_That was fantastic news about mum. Was there a statistically significant increase, or just a few extra blips? Has Dr. Krebbs mentioned anything else? What book are you reading with her?_

_Thank you for the money for lunch this weekend. We did enjoy it last time. I'm glad that Grandpa Ben is keeping you company. He's right to encourage Harry to demonstrate proper manors with Susan, though he always does anyway. She'll appreciate it._

_Love from,_

_Hermione_

… - …

"Arthur, why aren't you going to work today?"

"Amos called me into his office yesterday and gave me a six week special assignment."

She gushed, "Oh, Arthur. I knew it was only a matter of time before someone would recognize the hard work you've been putting in. What are you going to be doing?"

"Learning about muggle's, Molly."

"_What?_ You've got to be kidding. What about the goblin liaison position? What about… Muggles. She took a calming breath, then took another. Finally she asked, "What are you going to be doing?"

"He gave me a list of fifty things to research. He told me that it was important that I know the information. I spoke with Amelia too. They both suggested spending time in the library, and going to something called films. Amos said that some muggles have been to the moon. Amelia told me that she and Harry, Hermione and Susan went to something called a documentary. I think it's the same as a film or a movie. Muggles have so many words for the same thing. Anyway, Hermione told Amelia that there is a wonderful library near her home in Crawley, as well as a building that displays these documentaries there. Amos gave me a packet of muggle money, and suggested that we both go. Amelia somehow checked and said that this documentary, er movie was there and we go see it at ten."

She still looked doubtful, but didn't say anything.

He added, "I thought perhaps you could go with me – at least this time. Amos said it was important. Please Molly? We could go to the library afterwards. We could get a chance to wear the muggle clothing. I have a uniform, no it's called a suit. That's right. Dr. Granger said he wore them; suits. You could wear that wonderful dress that you wore to the Walkers' wedding. After the library, we could go out for dinner right by the library. Harry mentioned a restaurant that he likes. I believe he said it was called King's."

"Well, OK Arthur. Ginny wrote back and mentioned that he'd taken Amelia's niece and Hermione to the Flying Horse for lunch a while back, so this King's must be a very nice place."

At half nine, they apparated to the spot Amelia had suggested and looked around. Molly saw the sign on the building – Crawley Library. Across the street was a huge building – Cinema 12. There were many different titles on display. She saw the one that he'd mentioned – the documentary. "There, Arthur, Apollo 13."

They walked over to the Cinema 12. On the way, Arthur said, "Amelia told me to use one of these… notes, she called them."

They got to the entrance. The young man at the ticket window gawked at them. These two looked like they were going to the Queen's wedding, not the early show. Adjusting the stud in his eyebrow, the young man said, "Morning Governor, which one for you and the Misses?"

Weasley looked transfixed at the metal stud sticking out of the young man's face. Finally Molly nudged him and he said, "We want to see Apollo 13."

"Twelve fifty."

"I thought the… movie was at ten."

The young man thought, _And they're looking at me strange. They should look in a bloody mirror. _He'd have ripped into them for being rubes, but he liked his job. He replied, "The film starts at ten. It costs twelve pounds, fifty pence for you two to go see it – Senior rate."

Molly whispered, "Hand him the note, Arthur."

He did and the ticket attendant gave them their change back along with the two tickets. The Weasleys didn't move.

The young man, whose nametag read Spike, but had been born Albert, said, "Theater six, back on your left." He pointed the way.

… - …

It was a wide-eyed pair that left the theatre two hours later. "Let's go to the library." suggested Arthur. We can read more about the documentary." Fortunately the old Liberian saw them and helped them find a table. He led Arthur to the section that had information on space travel (629.45) Molly asked to see a book about forms and units of money (332.404)

"Molly, look. Here's a picture of the vest that the flight director wore. These documentaries are simply amazing. I had no idea that the muggles were capable of all that. Who knows what else they can take film of? How was your book?"

Molly's mind was miles away. She'd read the book on currencies; especially those that were tied to gold and various conversion rates. "Arthur, maybe we should go to the King restaurant another day."

"OK Mollywobbles."

… - …

"You asked to see me, Professor. Have you found anything new?"

Dumbledore gave a frown and replied, "No Sirius. The murder of Horace Slughorn has closed a door to us. It remains my belief that Tom Riddle, as a fifth or sixth year began making horcruxes. Before he left sixth year, he had carefully crafted the diary that Harry managed to destroy. Sometime in his sixth year, he came upon the idea that making multiple horcruxes would further ensure his escape from death. It is my belief that Horace suggested that the numbers three, six, or nine would be the best quantity of horcruxes to have, resulting in four, seven or ten parts, including himself."

He continued, "Given that we've destroyed the diary, a ring, a locket and the diadem, it is fair to believe that he didn't stop at three, leading me to the belief that he made six."

Black asked, "And the others?"

Dumbledore rambled, "It was about fifty years ago that he began making these abominations. I should have noted the change in him while he was still a student, but I didn't. It was about fifty months ago that Harry directly battled Riddle in a possessed body. That was the second time that Harry destroyed a body that Tom was holding an anchored part of Riddle's soul. However weak or gullible Quirinus Quirrell may have been; Tom had enough Force of Will to overpower or seduce him. It was about fifty weeks later that Harry destroyed his first horcrux."

Sirius replied, "The one that Riddle made when he was a student here."

"Correct, and now I find myself knowing that within fifty days, my part in this quest to rid the world of Tom will be over. To circle back, it is my belief that Horace would have suggested that seven parts – six plus one would be the magically strongest number."

Dumbledore seemed to steel himself for his next words. "The flaw in his plan was making Harry into a horcrux."

"What?" Sirius was thinking,_ Not this argument again. Fifty days, more like fifty minutes if he keeps crap this up._

"His scar. Somehow he placed a piece of his soul into Harry's scar. Naturally, Harry must battle Tom and be killed by his own hand before someone else can kill him."

"Well, that's _never_ going to happen."

"But it must."

"Have you even seen Harry lately, you worthless goat fecking fool. Didn't you even bother to look at him when he let us into the chamber? Poppy must have sent a report. You didn't even bother to read it, did you?"

"Well, er…"

"Look at this." It was a recent picture of Harry and Susan that Colin had taken with his new camera. Clearly Harry bore no scar since the quidditch accident. "Where is the scar that you were so worried about? Oh wait, it's gone! Scraped off with the rest of the skin on his forehead after that quidditch match that you were too busy to attend. He even wrote me and mentioned a big change in his magic. Leave my Godson out of your little schemes. Go back to your castle and find your boy-toy. Maybe he'll give you one last go before you cash it in. Go for it. Just stay out of Harry's life."

He tossed one of the portkeys that Dumbledore had made back to him and said, "Be gone."

Dumbledore considered his words for a moment, then tapped the portkey that he'd previously made with his wand and was gone.

… - …

Albus immediately realized his mistake. He'd suddenly appeared on a busy street by Crawley. In the dim light, the petrol truck driver saw a pedestrian appear out of nowhere. The driver immediately swerved, tipping over, to avoid the strangely dressed old man, only for the driver to be hit by another truck. However, the SUV driver behind the fuel truck hadn't seen the old man and hit him square on – tossing him into the fire that had just ignited. The old wizard died less than a minute later.

The ensuing fire burned Albus Dumbledore and all of his effects beyond recognition. As he carried no identification, the world would never know that the old headmaster had met his maker.

… - …

"Who's de owl from, Abe?" slurred Smedley, one of the regulars at the bar.

Aberforth replied, "Some bloke who owed me money kicked it. I always figured it would go that way."

"Well, I'll have a drink to em, anyway. Cheers."

Abe tossed the Gringotts announcement in the fireplace and watched it as the letters on the page slowly charred and turned to ash. He'd get around to telling the professors at the school… someday.

"Cheers."

… - …

"You can touch them, they won't break. Here…" She untucked the shirt from her skirt to aid his awkward attempt at finding an access point. "Not too hard. Like that. That's very nice." Several minutes passed. They felt heavy in his hand, yet soft and warm, all at once.

"Thank you."

"I had a wonderful time walking around the lake. This was nice too. I knew you needed something to cheer you up when that old coot decided to bother you. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight." She gave him a quick kiss and walked back to the Hufflepuff common room.

He walked back to his common room with a moonstruck look on his face.

… - …

Institutional gray. He hated that color. He wished that just once, Harry or Hermione would give a wave of their wands and the hallway would turn canary yellow, or bright red, or even resale white. But no…, every time he walked down the hallway to the last room on the right, it was institutional gray.

He wondered how much his aspect had darkened since the woman in the bed, seemingly just sleeping, had last kissed him. He could call himself a soldier in some weak attempt at rationalizing what he and Ben had done, were doing, were planning on doing, but it wasn't right. He could tell himself that they were some band of privateers, but they had no Letter of Marque, authorizing their actions.

Every time he got in a funk like this, he either went to see his Emma, or watched the VCR replay the attack of his business, his family. Grace, Pam, Jack and that other woman had died needless deaths. The renewed righteous anger coursed through him.

"Good evening, Dr. Granger." Janet the evening floor supervisor greeted him as she always did.

Completely focused on something else, he muttered a reply.

He hated gray.

He walked in her room and sat on the single chair by her bed. Tubes in. Tubes out.

He picked up the book on the nightstand, opened it to the marked page and began reading.

Half an hour later, he marked the page and held her hand for a moment. It seemed so small and frail. He looked at her and said, "Please come back to me, Em. I need you." He walked to the door, turned and gave the love of his life another look and walked down the hallway.

… - …

Thursday 28 October

Lupin announced, "The estimates that you requested are in, Minister. Warding sufficient to keep a determined attack from entering an average sized property for ten minutes would run 10,000 galleons. For twenty minutes of coverage, the goblin quoted 50,000."

Amos replied, "Thank you, Remus. Rufus, Amelia – Ludo's idea of purchasing these wards with confiscated money for everyone in this room has merit. What are your thoughts on the levels themselves?"

Amelia glanced at Rufus, who went first. "The words used in this job quote are very subjective. Determined attack – is that a group of fifth years who are determined to sneak into a girl's room, who cast a few _Reductos_ at the ward line? Or is it Mad Eye casting every sneaky spell that he knows with the aid of an able curse breaker? Or is it ten Death Eaters who are determined to make one of us permanently late for work? Is it an empty home that allows the wards to quickly drain, or one powered by the owner? Minimally, we need to understand the specifics, so we can make an informed decision."

Amos asked, "Amelia, what do you think?"

"Three comments, really. A friend of mine just had their home warded with intent based wards. The goblins were in and out in a day. I seriously doubt they were charged 50,000 galleons. Finally, while I'm in favor of this on a specific basis, it's only fair to point out that having public funds pay for improvements to private properties is a very slippery slope, as former Minister Fudge found out."

Amos asked, "So you're in favor?"

"I'm not opposed. I already have them on my own home. In the past, the night attacks tended to be firebombings where a dozen bad guys would apparate near a property, cast a ward or two of their own, typically making escape all but impossible. Then they cast _Incendio_ on the house itself, if it would burn, or through the windows, if it wouldn't. Then they repair the windows and cast _Impervious_ on them, effectively blocking the exits.

"The other strategy was to just muscle their way through any wards and attack the occupants from all directions. By the time that the parents had gathered up their children, it was usually too late to escape.

"So, keeping someone out for thirty seconds or thirty minutes isn't the only solution. We need the capability to communicate the need for assistance as well as the manpower to respond.

"The reality is, if Riddle goes out and recruits fifty bad guys, he can split them up and launch two simultaneous attacks with twenty-five guys each. We don't have a ready room staffed with ten people, let alone fifty. To do that on a shift basis, you need four people to have one working at any given moment. He doesn't have to staff 24x7, so in that respect, he'll always have the advantage."

Amos admitted, "That's a rude awakening, Amelia. What do you recommend?"

"In 1970, before Riddle became aggressive, the DMLE headcount, comprised mostly of Aurors, Hitwizards and a handful of Admin was ninety. That number went to one-fifty in 1979 plus a class of recruits. The day that Harry stopped Riddle in 1981, we were down to sixteen qualified Aurors, one Hitwizard and two recruits. Fudge, with the aid of Lucius, originally set the number at sixty and weakened it further when he could. Today, we sit at forty five, including the six Hitwizards and thirteen guards assigned at Azkaban. That puts three Aurors on the street at any point and two in the ready room. The assignments vary slightly, but he really put us in a box. In return, he created Arthur's department and Control of Creatures, totaling ten people.

"To answer your question, I recommend that we go on the offensive. We cut eight from Azkaban duty, leaving John Wood plus four. Riddle's already cherry-picked those who he wants. We put them in the ready room or at Hogsmeade on the school weekends. Sooner or later, everyone goes to Gringotts. You've already labeled the branded Death Eaters as terrorists. I'd rather go after them in Diagon Alley during the day than attempt to break through their wards at night. We need to recruit, yes, but we'll have won or lost this war before today's recruits are licensed. So in summary, those of you who own your home, go get it warded. If you don't, the goblins won't touch it. We'll recruit as we're able to and restructure as we can. That's my recommendation."

Amos nodded and replied "Thank you both. Please get started next week. Remus, get a more specific quote and we'll implement it next week. That's all."

… - …

"Dr. G, we need to talk."

"Morning, Ami. What's up?"

"It's more like what's missing. There was forty-two thousand in the business account on that Friday. Fifteen thousand went to pay Pam, Grace and Jack. The insurance settlement on the old office came in on Tuesday. You wrote cheques for the new equipment, and the Keyman policy cheque came in yesterday. You've also paid for the new supplies, utilities, my and Alyson's salary.

Dan asked, "That sounds OK. What's the issue?"

"Dr. G, you haven't paid yourself in almost three months. Have you been paying your bills at home?"

Dan admitted, "Harry's banker has taken care of that for me."

"And everything is square with Dr. Emma?"

"As well as can be until she wakes up."

"Aside from the lunches that I've been bringing in, have you been eating?"

He gave a smile and replied, "Yes _Dr. Anderson_. Actually, I've been having dinners with Emma's dad. We've kept each other company lately."

"OK. So what's going to happen with the practice? I know you've had a million things to do, but I've had to cancel almost half of the appointments. On top of that, now that Alyson is working, she cleans somebody's teeth and when they have a problem that you could fix, they have to come back when you're not in, and it's hard to schedule an appointment. Do you want to work mornings, afternoons, or Tuesday and Thursday? What would be best?"

Dan blew out the breath that he didn't know he'd been holding and replied, "I'll be here Monday afternoons, all day on Tuesday and Friday through November. Ask again in the middle of November about December. Will that work?"

She looked at him with a worried expression and asked, "Dr. G, is everything all right?"

He honestly replied, "No Ami, it isn't; but I think it will be."

"This whole thing has been hard on you, on Hermione and Harry. Let me know if you need anything. OK?"

"All of us Ami, all of us. I will. You too."

She smiled at him as he added, "Good night Ami. Thanks for all of your help."

After she left, he drove home to give Ben the news.

ooo ccc ooo

McGonagall had learned the old scribe's schedule and was waiting in the room across the hallway when she heard him open the door to her office to drop off his report. She was livid. "Mr. Crow, how many product placements did you slip into your report this time? They seem to pop up on every other page. We've discussed that."

_You've discussed it until you're blue in the face_, thought Crow. _I haven't said a word._

"Gratuitous nudity – completely unnecessary."

He gave her a sharp look of rebuttal, but didn't say anything. His hair was just starting to grow back. _Maybe she needs more aged whiskey. I wonder if I could order a small barrel for her. She'd probably break the bung._

His attention returned to her droning. "In my day, we had a war going on. Allowances were made based on the times…"

Crow rolled his eyes and quietly closed the door as he left.

He had left the county before she noticed the handwritten card and the Bic pen on her desk. It read, 3705709 - Blood Bound. She reached for a glass as she muttered, "He did it again."

Author Note – Has anyone read a novel-length prequel to book one that they thought was really exceptional? If so, I'd love to hear about it. If not, I may have to write one.

… - …


	14. Candy and Flowers

… - …

**Chapter 14 – Candy and Flowers**

Saturday 30 October

_**Where's Dumbledore?**_

_**Rita Skeeter**_

_Readers deserve to know that Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore hasn't been seen in public since 27 October. Assistant Head, McGonagall confirmed that she hadn't seen the often elusive professor in three days._

_Has he been held captive in Azkaban? Speculation is that he may have been involved with the attempted liberation of Delores Umbridge, who had been working at the school earlier this term._

_Minister of Magic Diggory offered no comment._

Remus put the paper down and commented, "I haven't seen him lately. How about you?"

Sirius replied, "No. The last time I saw him, he was ranting about Harry being responsible to go after Voldemort. I told him to leave. Maybe he's gone off looking for Horcruxes?"

"Probably. It's strange that he wouldn't have at least told McGonagall that he'd be gone a few days."

Sirius shook his head and commented, "Who knows? When does he ever tell anybody anything? I have a difficult time justifying his actions and motives. He let me rot for ten years. Why? He believed Riddle wasn't dead based on a five minute exam of baby Harry. If he really believed that Riddle had made a handful of horcruxes, why did he waste a dozen years by not searching for them? If he believed that Harry was one, why didn't he ever do anything to try getting rid of it? He never would have found a wand for me. I'm tempted to get a walrus tusk scrimshawed with _It's for the greater good _and jam it up his arse, except he'd probably enjoy it way too much. In his own way, he's more dangerous that Voldemort."

The old wolf gave his lifelong friend a sad look. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't disagree with his words.

… - …

Anna asked, "Who's the letter from?"

Connie replied, "Little Susie. Whoo hooo! She wrote that Harry's getting to be a good kisser. Excellent. I suggested that she give him a few private lessons."

Anna smirked and asked, "Just how _private_ are these lessons. Ms. Matchmaker?"

"What's it matter? They'll fumble around a bit, he'll learn how to unhook a bra strap and find a little love. Neither is forcing themselves on the other."

"How did he end up at the Grangers? I never read anything about it."

"He fought off a big basilisk that was lurking in the castle when he was twelve! Twelve years old, what a feat. Anyways, it came out that the monster had been lurking around the halls of the castle, petrifying some of the kids. One of them was Hermione Granger. Surprise-surprise - Dumbledore had been trying to keep it quiet."

"Like that was ever going to work," laughed Anna.

"No kidding. The bizarre part was he kept those kids petrified; some of them missed months of school. He could have spent a thousand galleons, bought a mature mandrake plant from Spain, and made them right within a few days. Anyway, Harry killed the snake and they all got revived just before school let out. She'd missed almost a month of class."

"What a cheap bugger."

Connie admitted, "No arguments there, sweets. So, a week later, school let out. Harry went back to his so-called guardians – Petunia and Vernon Dursley. Hermione told her parents what had happened. A few days later, they arrived unannounced to thank him and found him alone in the house, locked up in a bedroom. There were multiple locks on the bedroom door and bars on the window. There was a ton of physical evidence of a lifetime of abuse around the house. The crowning jewel of the matter was that there was no legal basis for him to even be there. Six hours later, his "relatives" were in lockup, on their way to prison, child services got involved and the Grangers petitioned to adopt the boy."

"How could that have even happened? That's just sick."

"Dumbledore had apparently dropped the boy off in the dead of night, early in November and plopped him in a basket on their doorstep with nothing more than a crib blanket and a handwritten note. He had no legal basis for doing so. Sirius Black was named as his godfather in their Will."

Anna observed, "I'm surprised he wasn't sharing a cell with the Lestranges over that little caper."

"Exactly. The adoption went through and it was a few months before old crooked-nose got wind of it. For some reason, he tried to undo it, but had zero legal-basis and everything had already been approved."

"Did he play the _Greater Good_ card?"

"Who knows? I don't think it ever was reported in the magical papers. Anyways, Mrs. Granger did a brilliant job, parenting him. He'd originally signed up for fortunetelling and dragon-keeping because one of Arthur's kids had heard that they were easy classes. She set them on complementary paths. Hermione apparently was a bit of a swot; she'd attempted to take every class. They ended up in Runes and Creatures together. She dropped fortunetelling after one class and dropped Muggle Studies at the end of first term."

"Still quite a few. Isn't two classes about average?"

"I thought so. They became friends with Susie in Runes class. Having a strong father-figure was good for Harry. Dr. Granger showed him how to stand up for himself. All in all, it was a match made in heaven."

"So why are you trying to hook Susan up with him?"

Connie admitted, "I think they're cute together. He's handsome, kind and gentle, heir to the Potter estates, and has those gorgeous green eyes. Speaking of that –"

Before her work-partner could start on her own love life, Anna cut in, saying, "Look at the time. There's work to do."

… - …

As they were getting off of the night bus in Hogsmeade, Dan asked, "Do you want me to take Lyle today?"

Ben shook his head and replied, "No. You're better with Fred."

"But I haven't…"

"Doesn't matter. I hope you never do. You're ready if something happens. At least the rain stopped. A bit of sun will be a nice change. Think we'll see anyone today?"

Dan replied, "Unfortunately, I do. "I'm just glad that the kids will be at the other end of the village and out of harm's way."

When they got to the upstairs room, Ben unlocked the door. They both walked in and unloaded their stuff. Ben locked the door while Dan pushed a chair up next to it. Dan opened the windows and noticed that the ice cream shop and the jewelry shop next to it had opened. One of the windows above the ice cream shop was open as well. It was just after eight.

They waited in silence.

… - …

Back at the castle, Susan snuggled into Harry a bit. She asked, "Will you do me a favor today?"

"Sure. What can I do?"

She whispered into his ear, "Don't bug Hermione. She invited Colin to come today." She gave his ear a little kiss.

When she had finished, he replied, "Thanks. OK, I know he likes her. She helped him with his homework last night."

She looked into his green eyes and explained, "She helps most of the fourth years and some of the third years. I'm surprised her fingers don't fall off with all of the homework she looks over."

"What's that have to do with Colin?"

"She fancies him a little."

"Oh. So this is like a date?"

"Yes a triple date. Neville and Luna started dating; you and I are too."

"Susan, will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yes silly. You were my boyfriend last month too, but thanks for asking. I need to go back to my room for a minute. We'll meet at the front door at nine."

… - …

Adrian Pucey asked, "Carl, are you ready?"

Warrington replied, "We're not leaving until ten. He said he'd meet us behind the building at half eleven."

"This will be so cool. Malfoy didn't even get invited."

Carl replied, "How do you know?"

Adrian observed, "Has he ever kept a secret in his life?"

"No. Is your brother coming?"

"Yes. I think so; others will be there too."

Carl replied, "OK. We'll meet at the front door at ten."

… - …

Aurors Frenchie and Kirke liked the Hogsmeade duty. The students showed up at ten. Most were gone by three and they chased a few kids out of Aberforth's place at four before any of the evening regulars showed up.

They arrived about nine, walked once past the Three Broomsticks to the shack and went back to the ad hoc station at the post office. They'd make the same loop again at one. In the meantime, they opened their magazines and began reading.

… - …

Mr. and Mrs. Chang never regretted leaving Hong Kong in 1989. Their daughter, Cho was able to attend a very fine school and had adapted to the new country very well. Chang was looking forward to bringing his wife and the ice cream man to the quidditch match in a week.

Their jewelry shop was doing well and they made a very good living, primarily selling pearls. Twice a year, they visited China and bought thousands of pearls in bulk. Then they worked them into reasonably priced jewelry – strands, rings, bracelet and ear rings. It was time consuming, sorting the pearls by shade and size, so they could create the best pieces, but they had plenty of time.

… - …

Odd, the Hogsmeade ice cream man was delighted to see the first students arrive. Dennis Creevey and his eight friends were the first in the shop. Colin had given his brother ten galleons – enough to buy his friends a ridiculous amount of ice cream. He walked to the counter and said, "We'll take a blueberry, two strawberries, an orange, a marshmallow, three vanillas… Do you have lemonade flavor?"

"Sorry, no."

"OK. One cookie dough."

"Very good. Two galleons and one sickle."

While he was scooping up the cones, another twenty students began forming a line behind the small boy. There was a large smile on Odd's face.

… - …

While Dennis was doing his part to buy the store out, Hermione and the other five walked into the Three Broomsticks to buy cases of butterbeer to get delivered. Ben got distracted watching them and wasn't at his post when Dan said, "Three morons walking into the jewelry store."

Ben replied, "Shite. Harry, Hermione and their friends are walking out of the door downstairs and look like they're going across the street. Now what?"

… - …

Hermione suggested, "Colin, maybe we should leave Dennis and his friends alone." She squeezed his hand and added, "We can catch up with them later."

Harry suggested, "Let's go see what's new at Honeyduke's."

The candy shop was packed. While the girls looked around, Harry, Neville and Colin quietly purchased boxes of chocolate that Mrs. Honeyduke promised would be delivered to them by dinner. Colin also ordered an extra dozen boxes for some of the younger students, who'd asked him.

… - …

Rowle, Scaboir and Alecto Carrow walked into the post office while Amycus waited outside. As Kirke looked up to see who walked in, they both were hit in the chest by jets of green light. Bob, the postal clerk was stunned and hit with three _Confundus_ charms.

Rowle said, "Let's move these two to the closet in back, in case anyone walks in." The postal clerk was hit with another _Confundus_ charm and would awaken in five minutes, completely unaware of what happened.

Frenchie's second year daughter would never have the fun of visiting her dad at Hogsmeade.

… - …

"Welcome back to the Flying Horse, Mr. Potter. Your table is ready. Which window would you like this week?"

Harry glanced at Hermione, who replied, "Hong Kong island, please."

Jamie, the waiter replied, "Right this way." He led them to the last booth on the left side, and then tapped the runes a few times. He added, "Select your beverages and they'll be ready in just a few minutes." Their view was that of a hillside restaurant with a magnificent view of the buildings below and the harbor.

Harry said, "Order whatever you like. It's our Grandpa Ben's treat."

Luna suggested, "Let's each order something different and we can share. See how the table-top turns. This is so nice. Thanks for inviting me, Harry."

… - …

Behind the restaurant, seventh-year students Adrian Pucey and his housemate Carl Warrington met up with their older brothers, Tom and Stan respectively. Stan said, "This is my cousin, Ed Wells. He finished with us when you two were firsties."

Adrian asked his brother, "Have you seen him yet?"

Tom asked, "Who?"

Adrian replied, "The Dark Lord."

Snape, who'd been off to the side, disillusioned announced, "None of you have been introduced to the Dark Lord since he's returned. Those of you who win my approval will have the opportunity to meet him tonight. If you prove yourselves, you might possibly receive his Mark. He raised the left sleeve of his robe and showed the recruits the writhing black tattoo on his left inner forearm. He added, "Let's go in and discuss it."

They walked in and were seated, with a bit less enthusiasm, by Giles, who put them on the last table at the right. He asked, "What scene would you prefer today?"

Snape replied, "Sicily will suffice today." After the waiter left, he cast _Muffliato_ and he ordered a jug of Chianti for the table. Snape asked, "Are you all committed to going into the Dark Lord's servitude? It has many rewards, but you should all realize that there is no resigning."

Carl spoke for the group and announced, "We're ready. Next time I'll do more than knock Potter off of his broom, I'll…"

"You will do what you're ordered to – nothing more, nothing less. He does not appreciate surprise or tolerate failure. Are we clear on that point?"

… - …

Back at auror headquarters, Connie Hammer was walking down the hallway and noticed Michelle Wood at her desk. She walked in and asked, "How was your week, _Captain Wood?" _There was a smile on her face.

Michelle replied, "A lot of training. How are you?"

"Fine. Would you do me a favor today?"

"Sure. What do you need?"

Connie replied, "Amelia's niece, Susie and her friends are in Hogsmeade, probably having lunch at the Flying Horse. Could you just check on them for a few minutes? Besides, the weather is fantastic today. I'll make you a portkey, if you like."

Michelle replied, "OK. I'll be ready in a few minutes."

"Thanks, Michelle."

… - …

Snape remarked, "OK then. We'll all meet at the Shrieking Shack tonight, at ten. If you're not there at ten, nothing further will be said about it."

They all nodded in anticipation of what they expected to be the best night of their lives.

… - …

To no one's surprise, Hermione added, "Hong Kong is very interesting. Britain has a ninety-nine year lease in the island which expires on 1 July 1997."

Neville, who hadn't been following a word of her five-minute diatribe asked, "Won't they have Chinese food after that?"

Slightly disappointed at his question, Hermione replied, "Yes, but it will be under China rule. Macao will be in the same in 1999. They're promoting it as One China, Two Systems."

Before anyone else's eyes could glaze over, their food arrived. Colin remarked "This is so much better than the take-away in our neighborhood. Dad doesn't really like it, but Dennis and I do."

Hermione smiled at him and replied, "I agree. It's brilliant."

… - …

Above the Three Broomsticks, Dan announced, "Four more of the morons walked into the jewelry shop. Let's switch windows. You'll have a better view from this one and I'll watch from yours."

Ben set up by the window and Dan moved to the window in line with the ice cream shop.

… - …

As Ben was moving to the other window, Michelle Wood and Hitwizard Greg Steele appeared just outside the post office. They decided to walk the quarter mile to the Flying Horse. On their way back, they'd stop in and visit with Frenchie and Kirke.

… - …

Harry paid the bill and opened his fortune cookie. It read, _Luck favors the prepared mind._ He traded with Neville, whose fortune read, _Treasure what you have._

"Thanks Harry," said Luna. "I had a great time today."

"Me too," added Colin. "Thank you, very much."

Hermione added, "It looks like we're all ready. How about stopping back in at the second hand shop?"

It sounded like a great idea.

… - …

Unfortunately, both tables emptied at the same time. Snape and his five goons looked up and found themselves facing Harry and his five friends at forty feet. Snape sneered, "Harry Potter and his little friends. You'll finally meet your end today."

Unfazed by the intended insult, Harry replied, "That's odd, Snape. The Dark Turd said about the same thing in the graveyard, accompanied by twenty-two of his buddies. I'm still here and half of them are planted in the ground. So we're playing for blood?"

He took several steps back and the other teens carefully followed his lead. They formed part of a semi-circle as the younger Pucey and the others stood still behind Snape. No one had their wand out yet. It looked like the standoff scene at the end of one of those bad spaghetti westerns that Harry enjoyed so much.

As the soundtrack coronet played in Harry's mind, he watched Snape, fully intending to put him down. He knew that he, Susan and Hermione had their wand holsters on and could get into the fight quickly. He wasn't certain of Snape or the wannabes.

Snape watched Susan, thinking if they didn't win it all, that Director Bones would throw the entire DMLE force after him personally. He briefly glanced towards the bar, but didn't see either of the waiters. He needed a way out of this. He remarked, "You and your little friends will just put your wands down, and we might let you walk out of here."

Using his own version of trash talk that Sirius had told him about, Harry replied, "That's not going to happen, Snivellus."

Susan and Adrian Pucey stared at each other. He looked surprisingly nervous. She didn't blink.

The cousins looked at each other, each wondering why this seemed a lot harder than what they'd heard about the Dark Lord and his followers, while they'd been in school.

Jamie the waiter finally realized who the other party was in the restaurant and hid behind the bar.

The older Pucey looked at Neville, thinking that he had an easy fight coming up. All the times in the common room when Snape had described the hapless first year stuck in his mind. He didn't see the fifth year who'd gained so much confidence in the last two months.

Neville glanced at Harry and saw that he was locked onto Snape. He wished that he'd bought a wand holster like Harry had.

Luna looked at two of the people across from her and hoped that she'd get the opportunity to right a wrong before she went to be with her mother.

Colin was scared witless.

Hermione took it all in and realized that no one was watching her or Colin. Like Harry, she was certain that she could get her wand out. Unfortunately, she began hearing Dumbledore's _everyone deserves a chance_ voice in her head at a very inopportune time. She hoped that it would be the right thing to do.

There was silence.

They waited.

Snape glanced at the Longbottom boy; certain that he'd wet himself before he could ever get his wand out.

Susan had made peace with her decision.

Harry let his magic build.

The cousins wondered if they could run away and not get hit.

Adrian Pucey looked at Luna and a smile crept onto his face.

Harry took another step back and Snape followed suit. The music kept playing in his mind.

Two things happened at once.

… - …

Pucey's older brother, Tom took a step back and fell backwards; forgetting the step down in the floor. Colin, who had been nervously holding his camera, accidently clicked the shutter, activating the flash unit, which was directly pointed at Snape, temporarily blinding him as he was reaching for his wand. Seeing Shape draw, the wannabes followed along with varying results.

Harry pulled both his wands from his quick-release wand holster and cast a _Reducto_ at Snape's neck, immediately followed by a powerful shield in front of Susan.

An ugly yellow spell silently cast by Snape splashed off of the shield, before it broke. Susan cast a _Reducto_ at Ed Wells, hitting him in the gut. Hermione cast a stunner at the younger Pucey.

Snape and three of the wannabes were down before they fully had their wands out of their robes. Harry cast a slicing hex at Carl Warrington, disarming him. Susan and Hermione cast stunners at Stan Warrington.

Once started, it was over in less than three seconds. Neville and Luna finally had their wands out

Except it wasn't.

… - …

Tom Pucey, who had initially fallen backwards and Ed Wells who was leaking blood from his gut, each pulled their wands and cast _Crucio_ at Neville.

Harry summoned him out of the way and was hit instead. Susan cast _Reducto_ at Tom, blasting his arm and Luna cast _Incarcias_ at Ed. She may have cast it a little too tightly, as he essentially popped from the pressure of the ever tightening ropes.

Hermione was the first to retch, followed soon after by Colin and Neville.

Jamie, the waiter, wisely crawled to the WC and locked the door.

Luna carefully cast slicing hexes at the throats of the two seventh years before putting her wand back in her robe pocket. Hermione asked, "Why did you do that?"

In a completely matter of fact voice, Luna replied, "They raped me when I was eleven."

So it was that all five of the teens were attempting to aid Harry when the door burst open and Michelle and Hitwizard Greg Steele rushed in the restaurant.

They immediately stunned Snape and the wannabe's, though it was moot. The Puceys and Warringtons had effectively bled out, and no one was in a hurry to help them. Hitwizard Steel exclaimed, "Merlin, you got that slimy bastard Snape. Good for you. Who are these dogshites?"

Neville replied, "Death Eaters in training."

Michelle pointed to Harry and asked, "How's he hurt?" Only after asking, did she notice that she was talking to Director Bones' niece about Harry Potter.

Susan replied, "Cruciatus."

Just then, she received a _Patronus_ message.

There was a war going on at the other end of the village.

She directed, "Stay here, "I or somebody else will be back within an hour. Don't touch anything."

… - …

Earlier, while Harry was reading Neville's fortune, Rowle and the other Death Eaters tired of watching Trevers abuse Mrs. Chang. He cast the killing curse at her and said, "It's time to go fire a few hexes into the Three Broomsticks and see who's foolish enough to come out."

He glanced out the window, saw no danger and opened the door. Two steps later, _pfft._ Thorfinn Rowle took one last step and fell to the ground.

… - …

_Pfft_. Ben took aim again and fired. Trevers clutched his chest in agony and seconds later had joined Trevers on the ground. The door to the shop slammed shut.

Someone noticed the two bodies and screamed.

… - …

Downstairs, Andromeda Tonks, who was having lunch with her daughter and Nym's friend Remus Lupin heard the commotion.

They dashed outside to see what was wrong.

… - …

Michelle and Greg also heard the commotion and took the pencil sized brooms out of their robe pockets, then enlarged them. They disillusioned themselves and mounted their Nimbus 2001s.

… - …

The five inside the jewelry shop dashed out of the door together; each casting a sweeping _Sectumsempra_.

Pfft. Ben missed.

Lupin, with quicker reflexes than most, dove to the ground and knocked the young Auror off her feet. Unfortunately, she hit her head on a paver stone and was bleeding. Andromeda wasn't so lucky and was hit three times. Her blood was everywhere.

_Pfft._ Yaxley fell backwards; hit just below the throat.

Lupin fired a stunner at Selwyn, just as the Death Eater had cast a killing curse outside the ice cream shop. A boy fell.

_Pfft._ Ben fired. The stunned Death Eater would never get up again.

… - …

Just then, Michelle and Greg flew over and cast _Percutio_ at Alecto. Hit once, she dropped instantly. They wheeled around as Scaboir cast a killing curse at Tonks, who was still on the ground. Remus pulled the stricken Auror out of the way as hard as he could, dislocating her arm. Steele fired and Scaboir dropped on top of Rowle.

Remus, Ben and Wood fired at the same time and Amycus was dead before he'd hit the ground. Michelle cast several _Patronus_ charm messages and landed, while Greg flew up and down the lane in search of other Death Eaters.

As she did, Dan closed one of the windows. Ben suggested, "Leave it open. The breeze will clear the air in a minute or two."

… - …

On the street, the older kids were firing hexes at the Death Eaters, while the third and fourth years were casting jinxes.

Odd, the ice cream man ran out to see how he could help. Kids were running everywhere. He cast sonorous and said, "Everyone, sit down where you are."

Grateful for the assistance, Michelle cast another _Patronus_ message to St Mungo's asking for immediate assistance.

Head wounds look ugly and are messy. Lupin held his hand over Nymphadora's right forehead to slow the bleeding.

Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop.

Help was arriving. Michelle cast a second _Patronus_ to Frenchie in the post office.

… - …

"When do you think she'll be back?" asked Colin.

"Dunno – soon I expect." replied Harry.

… - …

Pop, pop.

Healers Crabtree and Evans from St. Mungo's arrived. They were at the scene much faster this time than last. Michelle had operational control and directed them to look at Auror Tonks.

Crabtree directed Remus, "Hold that for a bit longer." She placed the young Auror in a stasis and directed, "Let go." She immediately bandaged Nym's head and removed the stasis. The bandage held back the blood loss. She directed Evans, "Give her three units of blood replenishing potion."

"How's that one?" asked Crabtree.

"She's gone," replied, Hammer.

Michelle said, "Connie, take one Auror and go to the restaurant. The kids are fine, but there was a bad situation."

… - …

At the same time that Yaxley was taking his last breath, Augustus Rookwood and Bellatrix apparated into the western apparition point and began a leisurely walk to the bank; stopping only at Borgin and Burkes for a moment. If anyone saw them, they didn't say a word and avoided making eye contact. They walked up to the marble steps and Bella only said one word to the door guards, "Stonegrinder."

One of the guards replied, "The Bronze room."

Stonegrinder was waiting for them and invited them to sit down. He added, "How may we assist you today, Mrs. Lestrange?"

Bella replied, "To the point, I want to schedule a Will reading for next Saturday morning at nine. I want to sell all of the properties, except the beach house at Nice. Finally, I want to visit vault 117."

Stonegrinder replied, "As you wish. Brokennose will take you. He's right outside the door. And for you, Mr. Rookwood?"

He replied, "I'd like to sell these rubies today."

Stonegrinder replied, "Wait here. I'll give them to Sneerwell to appraise. Would you like the proceeds in galleons, or some other currency?"

Rookwood, replied, "I'd like the appraisal and offer first."

Stonegrinder said, "I didn't mean to presume. I'll be right back." He knew he'd offer the desperate wizard six percent under Sneerwell's appraisal and throw on a four percent commission, netting him at least three months' salary as a bonus.

Sneerwell examined the stones carefully – first testing for authenticity, then for cut, clarity, color and weight. He knew that the fair market value was slightly over 200,000, perhaps as much as 215,000 if he had a good day. He stated, "196,000."

Stonegrinder replied, "197,000."

Sneerwell came back, "196,500."

"Accepted. I'll be right back."

Stonegrinder stepped into the Bronze room and stated, "He offered, 175,000 for them. I negotiated him up to 185,100. There is a four percent commission, which would net you 177,700. Would you like the proceeds in galleons, or another currency?"

"Galleons; in a case please."

"As you wish. I'll only be a minute." He returned and asked, "Would you prefer that part of the gold be deposited into your vault? That's a lot of gold to be carrying around."

Rookwood gave him a serious look and remarked, "I'm sure that the Ministry Aurors will keep the dangerous people away. Wouldn't you agree?"

Just then Bellatrix returned carrying an identical case. She remarked, "I believe we're done for today. Owl me when the properties have sold. I'll be back next Saturday."

Sneerwell's sharp ears heard that bit of information.

Stonegrinder remarked, "It will be done, Mrs. Lestrange."

"Yes it will. We'll be on our way then."

As they were going through the doors, Stonegrinder was certain that he'd taken the desperate wizard for a greater amount than Sneerwell. There was always money to be made. Stonegrinder made ten percent of the sales commission as well as ten percent of the difference between the appraised value and the sale price to Rookwood. He would also make money on the sale of the properties for Mrs. Lestrange.

Sneerwell earned ten percent on the difference between the appraised value and the final sale price of the rubies. He barely considered that gold; rather focusing on the value of the estates themselves. He was a patient goblin. He reached for a quill.

… - …

It was nearly an hour from when Snape pulled his wand until Connie Hammer and second-year Auror Nikki Sutter arrived at the Flying Horse. Once inside, it was difficult to see who was more distraught – the six students or the two servers. The restaurant had the unpleasant odor of vomit; contributed to by everyone except Harry and Susan, who were holding onto each other for dear life.

As Anna was away taking photos at Chang's, Connie was limited as to what she could move. Hermione joined in, holding her all-but-brother, and Connie pulled Susan aside so they could talk quietly for a few minutes.

"Susie, when I suggested that you give him an afternoon that he'd never forget, I had a happier ending that this in mind. Was this Snape's doing?"

"No, these two hit him. I don't know their names."

She sent a _Patronus_ message to Amelia that the teens had been attacked and Harry needed medical. She asked, "Backing up a few hours, what happened?"

"We didn't see anyone else here when we came in. We must have both gotten up at the same time. Snape said that Harry was going to die today. They stared at each other for a minute; then Snape went for his wand. It was a good thing we had our wand holsters. Harry was a little faster. The others followed suit. He saved me, Aunt Connie." A moment later, she was sobbing.

Connie held her for a minute then moved the thoroughly shaken teens and the servers to the ministry building via portkey. The stench was getting worse and they had provided the basic information. She wanted to talk with the waiters.

… - …

Anna went to work as quickly as she could. It turned out that there were four sites to be examined – Changs', the street, the restaurant and the post office. Connie returned a half hour later, and they continued bagging and tagging the wands. Anna asked, "Where did you put the kids?"

"Amelia took Susie, Harry and Hermione. Lovegood took the other three. I extracted memories from the two servers and marked them as evidence. Be sure to get the reservation book. I want to see what name Snape's reservation was made under. How are you doing here?"

"Horrible. Frenchie and Kirke were found dead in the back closet of the post office and all that the clerk there can say is '_Nice day, isn't it? Do you have an owl treat?'"_

Anna asked, "What did you get out of the kids?"

"Basically, they'd had their lunch at one side of the restaurant, paid their bill and were walking out when they ran into this lot. Snape told them that they were going to kill them and this lot tried to back him up but weren't very good at it. Once they began fighting, the only odd thing was that the Creevey boy had the presence of mind or sheer stupidity to take a few photographs. What did you find here?"

Anna replied, "This lot went down to well executed school hexes. Snape took a blasting hex to the neck. These oafs got on the wrong end of some slashing hexes. They all had their wands. These three appear to be in their mid-twenties; these two a few years younger."

Connie mentioned, "Here's the reservation book." They found the reservation sheet for the day. "Potter, party of six and Snape, party of eight. Did we miss anyone?"

Anna replied, "I don't know. They could have left early or been no-shows. The server memories will confirm it. Were any of them hurt?"

"Harry got hit with the Cruciatus curse - twice. None of the others reported being hurt."

"Ouch. I'll check the plates and see how many people were at the table. Where to next?"

"Connie replied, "We should go back and finish up at Changs' Jewelry. Have the bodies been moved yet?"

"No, but we're done with this lot here. So much for our having a quiet weekend. What's wrong?"

Connie exhaled and replied, "Look at all the stinkers that he's lost lately. He's either going to hide in a hole, or come out himself and start killing people."

… - …

The Dark Lord had developed the curious habit of listening to the Wizarding Wireless for news and information; finding it less biased and more current than the _Prophet_. It seemed that Skeeter was reviled on both sides of the isle. The wireless offered a nice mix of classical music, news and commentary.

His next goal was the completion of the training of the hired help. Severus had performed his task admirably. The economy may have had something to do with it, but he was more than pleased with them, the time he spoke with them.

After that, he wanted to revisit the relationship with the Dementors. While they essentially allowed him to pluck ten prisoners from the island, they didn't abandon their posts and openly join him. Either they felt like he had insufficient means to offer them a better existence, or they were sufficiently cowed by the ministry to not defect.

_Our top of the hour news is the successful conclusion of the disturbances in Hogsmeade following the unprovoked attack by thirteen Death Eaters. Randi Bell, Ministry Spokesperson confirmed the earlier report that former Hogwarts Professor Severus Snape has been killed along with seven marked and five unmarked Death Eaters. Also killed today were two ministry Aurors, Hogwarts Potions Professor Andromeda Tonks, two storekeepers and one student. Their names have not yet been released pending notification of relatives. Another Ministry Auror and a student were taken to St. Mungo's for treatment of injuries._

_Ministry Undersecretary Dirk Cresswell has the most recent update._

Riddle shut off the wireless. He'd had enough. It was time to strike back while he still could.

ooo-ccc-ooo

The old scribe had become wary of returning to McGonagall's office. He'd tried his namesake beverage, he'd tried leaving her a gift of his favorite Bic pen. In frustration he'd left her something more personal. Now she'd added Filch and that blasted cat to the guard duty.

Suddenly, warm inspiration had come upon Crow's arthritic hand with the same satisfaction as holding a young woman's bre – well, he had an idea.

A few days later, McGonagall was sitting in her office, reading reports when she heard a noise from her fireplace. Several parchments fluttered out of the opening and landed onto the floor. She walked over to collect them when there was the sound of a smash, then a great Whoosh from the lit fireplace.

Apparently the delivery person, an old guy that the scribe had met when he was younger, who wore a red suit and had a long white beard hadn't noticed that the package was marked Fragile – Glass and Flammable.

McGonagall was less than pleased, as she patted the burning spot on her new cloak that she'd been wearing. She read the attached card, _Merry Christmas_ and concluded that Crow had the best of intentions, regardless of the outcome On the back was the listing 8993792 One-World. She heard another noise from the fireplace and a package fell out. She smelled the familiar aroma of catnip and a smile crept onto her face.

Happy Holidays.

O-C


	15. Fighting Back

**Chapter 15 – Fighting Back**

Saturday 30 October

While Harry was exchanging words with Snape, Arthur and Molly walked out of the theatre – shell-shocked.

"Molly, I don't know how else to explain it. William Wallace, that was 1272; though I don't understand who Braveheart was. They have to have some sort of time-turner. I can't think of another explanation. Let's go to the library and look. My recollection of history might be wrong, but I believe that was King Edward."

"Arthur, the time turners that I've read about only go back a few hours. How could that be?"

"Let's go to the library, then maybe we can try that King's restaurant that Harry had mentioned."

"The man at the theatre said it was a new film. Perhaps the man who makes the documentaries got ahold of a very powerful time turner."

She replied, "I didn't know that the Americans had ones that could go back so far. Could they be so far ahead of us?"

"If they can go to the moon in one of their moon craft, who knows what else they could do?"

Molly commented, "All of those people killed. What a shame."

They went back to the library. Arthur satisfied himself by looking up the name William Wallace and some weaponry. Molly looked up gold refining and a process known as smelting.

… - …

That evening, McGonagall admitted, "I honestly don't know what to do,"

The four heads of house met in the staff lounge. Sinistra let the other three have their say. It had been a horrible day. Hogwarts had lost a student, an instructor and five students had lost one or more parents. One had suffered serious injuries. On top of that, Dumbledore hadn't checked in during the last three days.

"Regarding what?" asked Sprout.

"Students, Dumbledore, Potions – everything's gone pear-shaped."

"Let's sort them out, one at a time."

"We need an instructor Monday. Albus has to approve the hire." She wasn't winging, but it was close. Her trial-by-fire leadership was completely lacking.

Flitwick reasoned, "You have the authority to hire a substitute."

"But…"

"We'll hire a substitute until things get sorted out."

"But Albus…"

"Can walk in this room right now and come up with a better idea. Oh wait, he didn't," mocked Sinistra. "So who did you have in mind, Professor?" It was obvious that she was referring to Flitwick.

"John Damocles."

"We couldn't possibly…"

"I'll call him when we're done. We can revisit the idea over winter break. I'll let you know, tomorrow morning."

"What's next?" asked Sprout.

"The children. They're…"

"Orphans and I expect a few of them are short on funds," said Sprout.

Sinistra stated, "We're not turning anyone out the door – certainly not before break. We're not contacting any orphanage. We have students stay over break every year. What's the issue?"

"They don't have permission forms."

"So they don't. Who's asking for them?"

Flitwick suggested, "Gringotts and the Ministry will get involved soon enough. Next term is important, but not urgent. Two of them were foolish enough to get themselves killed. Harry and his friends are in the care of people who will take care of them. What's next?"

"Albus."

"Will either be back tomorrow or he won't," rationalized Sprout.

Flitwick asked, "Is there anything that needs to be signed in the next week?"

"He has to approve any payroll changes."

"But not substitutes, or contract labor. There must be enough in petty cash to pay him for a month or so. We'll manage," suggested Flitwick.

It was that evening when Minerva McGonagall realized that, like Nick Straighthand, the Auror, she belonged where she was, and not someplace else. She'd never apply for, nor accept nomination, for the headmaster position.

… - …

On most days Amelia's role was straightforward – Director DMLE. By dinner time, Amos had found her and told her, "Be a parent for a few days." Connie and Anna had immediately cleared Susan and her friends, after finding a variety of gruesome and unforgiveable curses registered on the wannabes' wands. Harry had been treated and released from St. Mungo's. So it was that the four of them were sitting at Amelia's kitchen table together.

In silence.

It was times like this when she missed having Susie's friend, Hannah Abbott around. She'd jabber on about anything and everything, eventually pulling her sometimes moody teen out of a funk.

Harry had been given several potions, but still twitched and obviously was in pain. After they'd moved to the family room, the two teens pressed against him. After an hour, he broke the silence and weakly asked, "So what else happened?"

She replied, "Andromeda Tonks was killed outside the Three Broomsticks. Her daughter, Auror Tonks was injured, but should be good to go by Tuesday. Two other Aurors, William Frenchie and Steve Kirke were murdered earlier in the morning at the post office. The couple who ran the jewelry shop was murdered in the morning and a third year student; Dennis Nott, was killed outside the ice cream shop. On the other side of the coin, one of the escaped Death Eaters and six of the Death Eaters that you saw in the graveyard were killed."

Harry asked, "Who?"

"Both Carrows, Rowle, Scaboir, Selwyn, Yaxley and Richard Travers." Susan held onto Harry so tightly that he worried that he'd never have use of his arm again.

By eight, they were clearly tired. Amelia debated trying to get them into beds or just finding a blanket, when a gong sounded, like a church bell. Smidgen the house elf rushed in and said, "Mistress, there is twenty-two bad men outside."

As the words were leaving the faithful elf's lips, Amelia felt anti-apparition wards going up. She sent a _Patronus_ message to Michelle –_ twenty-two Death Eaters attacking my home. Susie and her friends are here._

Harry and the girls were instantly awake. He asked, "When do we leave?"

Amelia replied, "I'm not certain that we can. They've put up a ward preventing anyone from making portkeys."

Harry glanced at Hermione's wrist. She still had her watch on. Now was a great time to see if they really could take the wearer plus one like Sneerwell had told them. He asked, "Can Smidgen leave when she wants to?"

Amelia replied, "Yes, but she couldn't take all of us."

"We've got wristwatch portkeys that Gringotts made. I think they can take the wearer plus one. Is there anything that you have to take?"

In truth, there were a million things, but she replied, "No."

"Hermione, take Susan. Amelia, hold as tight as you can." Hermione nodded and they both put their hands over the watch faces and shouted, "Home."

Five seconds of horrible madness later, they were in their back garden.

… - …

Inside, Dan and Ben had just finished cleaning the rifle and were just putting it in the broom closet when the back door opened. Harry, Hermione and Susan were followed in by Amelia. Dan hastily put the bottle of gun cleaning solvent in the refrigerator while Ben closed the closet door. He asked, "What's wrong?"

Hermione immediately sprang into her father's arms and began sobbing. Ben hurried them out of the kitchen and into the family room; again asking "What's wrong?"

Amelia replied, "There were several Death Eater attacks today. They were directly involved in one earlier today and another just now."

Not giving anything away, Ben asked, "What happened?"

At this, Hermione began sobbing uncontrollably.

Dan remarked, "I'll put her to bed." She only began sobbing louder.

Amelia suggested, "Perhaps the three of them would be less stressed on the sofa."

Ben offered, "Maybe you can help Dan get them settled in. I'll make us a nightcap and you can tell us about it." Not waiting for an answer, he went into the kitchen and tossed the cleaning rags in the trash. A minute later, he'd turned the lights on in the living room and brought a bottle, some ice and three glasses.

Just then, another _Patronus_ message from Michelle arrived. She politely refused Ben's offered beverage and replied, "I'll pick them up in the morning, but right now, I must leave."

… - …

Not having access to the floo system, she apparated to the visitor entrance and took the phone booth into the lobby. Lewis, the evening guard, was wide awake. She obviously wasn't the only one who'd arrived recently.

An hour later, Michelle and her team came back, one of which had his arm in a sling. Amelia was unsurprised to see Mike there as well. Unasked, Captain Wood reported, "Twenty dead bad guys. Two got away. One side of your house is pretty damaged. Your elf helped hold the house wards together. She's exhausted. What have you heard from Rufus?"

"The very short version is eleven responded," remarked Connie, who'd just responded. "Riddle, Bellatrix, Dolohov and one other stinker were there. Aurors Kessler, Handy, Walker, and Dickel were killed. So was Cecelia Scrimgeour. Rufus got Bellatrix, but he's in St Mungo's, pretty banged up. They left when Lestrange went down and seven more Aurors arrived."

Amelia replied, "I'd better get the long version for this." The three of them walked to her office.

When they'd all sat down Connie asked, "So what happened?"

Michelle replied, "Two of the regular Death Eaters showed up with these twenty morons. We took the portkeys to Powis castle, a half mile away, unshrunk our brooms, disillusioned ourselves and swooped down like raptors. We'd cut down two a piece before they even realized that anyone was there; they were so intent on destroying the wards. Even then, they were looking at ground level. Mulciber and the other Death Eater left, leaving those idiots to try and defend themselves. Honestly, it was all over except the cleanup in under two minutes. They'd put up portkey wards. How'd you and the teens get out?"

Amelia admitted, "Harry Potter saved me."

Michelle smiled and replied, "Now that's one for the books. Maybe he'll save me someday."

Amelia added, "He and his adopted sister, Hermione Granger have some sort of goblin-made portkeys. Apparently they work through the wards that the stinkers know to set up. What happened to Rodney?

"We were on our third pass before they realized that we were in the air. By then, it was an even matchup. They were firing A-Ks and blasting hexes. One turned out to be a lucky hit and he flew right into it. Rodney slammed right into the ground, rolled a bit and made a sudden stop when he hit a tree trunk. A week in St Mungo's and he'll be back for light duty."

Amelia replied, "Thank you, Michelle, for everything." Turning to Connie, she asked, What happened with Rufus?"

"He sent emergency Patronus messages to headquarters, as per procedure. Apparently Riddle himself took down the wards with no more effort than wading through a shallow stream; two minutes tops to get through. He and Bellatrix and two stinkers were there. Unfortunately, our lads showed up one at a time at first. He personally killed, Kessler, Walker, Handy and Dickel before they even had a chance."

Amelia kept herself composed, but this was not good news.

Connie continued, "Rufus tried to get Cecelia out through an upstairs window on a broom. Belletrix was watching for it. She must have seen the stick. Rufus told me that she waved a big slicing hex and Cecelia just flew into it. He got her, but Riddle blew a big blasting hex by the window. Finally six of our lads arrived at the same time. Riddle must have thought that he'd finished off Rufus. Sunset heard him call a retreat and two seconds later, they were gone."

She paused a moment and said, "That's the short of it. He's lucky to be alive."

Amelia asked, "Where's Anna?"

"She's still at the Scrimgeours', trying to tidy up a bit."

As she refilled all of their glasses, Amelia commented, "He was right, you know?"

Through decades of working together, Connie recognized Amelia's change of subject routine and asked, "What's that?"

"Amos was talking about warding properties the other day. Rufus mentioned that it didn't matter how long the ward held up if there was no way out, or if no one was coming."

"Where did Harry Potter get the special portkey?" asked Michelle.

"He made friends with one of the senior managers at Gringotts. They're reuseable and pre-set to go to specific places. I personally can attest that they'll take the wearer plus one through some pretty good wards. Cresswell had heard of them a few years back and inquired. They refused to even consider selling him one, let alone two dozen. Aside from their use as a portkey, it's the most handsome wrist watch that I've ever seen."

Connie quipped, "Some days it pays to be Harry Potter, I guess."

Based on her lack of response, Amelia was thinking of something else. Connie asked "What's wrong?"

"Amelia replied, "He's gone back to using rentals. He brought out twenty tonight. Next time, he'll have two hundred. I'm not discounting your broom-squad tactics, Michelle, and I'm beyond grateful that the Harpies took a day and gave everyone in your group tactical flying lessons, but, likely as not, next time they'll get in a spot where that won't work and we'll be in a pitched battle."

Connie and Michelle nodded in realization of the truth in her words.

"If we get ridiculously lucky and go 10 – 1 against them, we'd be shattered as a protection force by the end of the day. At 5 – 1, we'd be a government in exile, or worse. This could be over by Christmas, and I don't mean that in a good way."

Connie changed the subject and asked, "So where are Susie and the others?"

"Wrapped under a blanket on the Grangers' sofa."

"Why don't you come home with me? We can make more sense of it in the daylight."

"Thanks Connie, I have to meet with Barnabas Cuffe in ten minutes. It won't be the first time that I've slept on the couch in my office."

"No, I suppose not. The workers will be out to your home at six. I'll send some of the lads to portkey the stinkers to the morgue and to check on Smidgen."

"Thanks Connie. You're the best."

"No, you are."

They both smiled at the mock-debate that they'd been running for so many years.

… - …

Sunday 31 October

Draco looked up as a literal flock of Gringotts owls carrying black envelopes flew into the Great Hall.

Chang got two. Sally Rowle and Scott Scaboir Jr – firsties in his house each received one. Theo got one for his brother. Some second year 'Puff named Frenchie was crying like a wounded cat. The little firstie in 'Claw wasn't doing any better.

It didn't escape him that while Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw each received one or more owls, in the last month, the vast majority had flocked to the Slytherin table. Adrian and Carl hadn't come back yesterday. Theo's little brother had accidently been killed outside the ice cream shop.

Potter's words kept coming back to him. He looked over – _Where was Potter? The Mudblood and Bones were gone too. The must have skipped breakfast._

Finally the owls carrying the newspapers arrived.

… - …

"Pucey, Pucey, Warrington, Warrington, Wells and Snivellus got theirs at the Flying Horse. Isn't that where Harry said he was going with Sue Bones and some friends?"

Remus replied, "He could have been there."

Sirius put the paper down and exclaimed, "Merlin's Balls. Do you suppose?"

"It's possible."

"Only Harry…Only Harry." Sirius rubbed his brow, worrying about his Godson's remarkable ability to attract trouble.

… -…

Poppy read the death announcement of Cecelia Scrimgeour with sadness. They'd been dorm mates and had stayed in contact all these years. She was a kind and gentle woman with the patience of a saint.

She didn't deserve to die.

… - …

Neville looked at the paper detailing the death of Bellatrix Lestrange with a grim satisfaction. The last of the group of Death Eaters who had destroyed his parents' lives had met a very sudden end.

With her hand upon his knee, Luna observed, "It will be over soon, luv."

… - …

Miles away, Augusta Longbottom put down the newspaper as she told her Frank the news. He and Alice had made no reaction, but it had been news that the older woman had waited years to give. She told them that their son had followed in their footsteps and had helped put down a wanted Death Eater and five recruits.

There was newfound pride in her voice.

… - …

Tuesday 2 November

Remus came by to visit the young witch who he'd initially thought of as a friend; now much more. He felt better about himself now that he had a real job. Cresswell's recommendation was among the best things that had ever happened to him.

Andromeda had always treated him fairly. Initially it had been tolerance, then mutual respect, finally actual friendship; both with her as well as Ted.

He'd made the decision to have her cremated while Nym was still in St. Mungo's. The Dark Lord's reputation for creating inferi was legendary, in a disgusting way. He wanted nothing of it.

Her friend, Poppy had contacted him that evening, offering to help, but Ted had refused; allowing the Ministry to make most of the arrangements. They decided to hold a celebration of life service in a few weeks.

While the last two days had been a complete blur to her, Nym was now awake and would be released later in the afternoon.

"What exactly happened, Remus?"

"We dashed out of the Three Broomsticks and curses were flying everywhere. I pulled you down; too hard, I suppose. I'd dislocated your shoulder. You banged your head pretty hard at the same time. Your mum, she got hit with four hexes and was killed almost instantly.

"The hitwizards were there almost instantly, but at nearly half of the bad guys had been killed by then. I think there were seven of them. The short of it was, they were all killed. They'd also murdered some storekeepers and a student.

"The healers came soon after. I had my hand over your head to keep the worst of the bleeding down. They were able to save you, but Andi was already gone. I couldn't save you both. I'm terribly sorry for your loss, but I'm glad that you're better."

… - …

Wednesday 3 November

Amelia had kept the six teens out of school for a few days in an effort to let things settle. They hadn't spoken to her, or hardly at all, on Monday or Tuesday. Finally, she brought in her secret weapon.

Connie asked, "So how was your week?"

Susan almost snorted at the utter absurdity of her question, but didn't say anything. Unlike yesterday's 'discussion' with Auntie, this didn't feel completely forced. She sat there, with her knitting, in comparatively comfortable silence.

Finally Neville replied, "I felt glad when I read that Captain Scrimgeour cut down Bellatrix. Is it OK to feel that way?"

Connie put the bundle down and replied, "Yes. It's real and a lot of people feel the same way. She caused loads of pain and damage to quite a few families."

The ice broken, Hermione admitted, "I wish I'd done more that day. Maybe Harry wouldn't have had to…"

Harry looked like he wanted to say something, but Connie silently waved him off.

"I felt so bad when I saw you shaking. You were in so much pain."

"Harry, you shouldn't have pulled me out of the way."

"Nev, I'd do it again."

Connie observed, "It's a bad habit to get into, Harry. Gallantry needn't include getting yourself killed, or badly injured."

Hermione and Susan chorused, "He has a people saving thing.

Hermione said, "It's one of the reasons I love him."

Sue added, "Me too."

Connie smiled, but it wasn't the time for smart retorts. She observed, "Harry, this wasn't the first time you've been in life or death situations."

"No. Riddle tried to kill me when I was little, but I don't remember that. Dumbledore said it was because of a prophecy, that Snape had told him. That's why he went after me to begin with. My Godfather, Sirius told me that she was too much of a drunk to be a real oracle. I don't know if that's true or not, but Riddle believed it.

"I went, we, Hermione, Ron and me; we went after him when we were in first year. At the end, Quirrell tried to kill me and somehow he burned up when he grabbed me."

Connie just let him go. He clearly had more to say.

"One of his horcruxes tried to kill me in second year. I killed it instead.

"With Snape, I suppose he could have played it different and slowly walked out of the Flying Horse. He started with the threats and they drew on us. It wasn't a schoolyard fight like with Draco in first year. Snape tried to kill Susan. I couldn't let that happen to her, to any of you. He didn't block. He attacked. They all attacked. I'd do it the same or better if I had to do it over."

Luna softly said, "So would I."

Connie waited patiently for the waif of a girl to organize her thoughts.

"They said some cruel things about my father when I'd just started school. Things escalated, and they attacked me just after Christmas, that year. I couldn't let them… I wouldn't let them hurt me again. I'm not sorry that they're dead. I'm not sorry. I'm not."

"Nor should you be." admitted Hermione. "I'm sorry that I said anything earlier."

Connie added, "None of you should have been in that position; either position. They're planted and the six of you have your whole lives to live, to love, to be loved." She glanced at Susie and winked.

Colin didn't look happy. Connie asked, "What are your thoughts?"

"I didn't do anything to help. I was scared and I was holding my camera."

Sue gave a glance to Harry, who (believed) he understood her intent and observed, "Colin, there wasn't much you could do. It was over in five seconds. I suppose you could have chucked your camera at Snape and popped him in the nose with it, but his greasy hair probably would have wrecked your lens. It's over. We lived and we're here. I heard a guy once say, 'make sure when your shift is over, you go home alive.' It wasn't what any of us planned, but we got through it. So next time, chuck your camera at the bad guy, pull your wand and blast him, or else fire your flash in his face like you did. It all worked out."

Connie picked up her knitting and put it back in her bag. She asked, "Are you lot ready to go back to school now?"

They nodded, and she added, "Go say goodbye to Amelia and I'll take you."

Susie hugged her and said, "Thanks, Aunt Connie."

Connie whispered something in the teen's ear and she nodded in agreement.

… - …

"We've been doing this to keep the kids out of this. What went wrong?"

Ben replied, "We had no way of knowing that that Snape idiot would go on a recruiting drive like some street busker. We both agreed that we couldn't keep them locked up in the castle. I thought this was the safest place. Damn it Dan, I admit I was wrong."

"Ben, it happened. They got through it. That's all that matters. We can talk with them more over Christmas break. Let's go eat."

"Good idea. Your turn to buy."

… - …

That night, Riddle summoned Augustus Rookwood and explained his situation. "We cannot afford to lose any more of our experienced brothers. We've had some success in direct confrontations against the Ministry. Unfortunately, there is more magical blood that must be shed before the Ministry will fall. We must ensure that it is not our own."

"What do you have in mind, my Lord?"

"You are familiar with the current situation in Serbia?"

"Of course, my Lord."

"I'm looking to hire the services of three hundred men for a month each. I'm willing to pay them one thousand galleons when they sign up and one thousand galleons a week. Further, I'll pay them a bonus of five thousand galleons for each British Auror or Hitwizard that they personally kill. In the vernacular of poker, we're going all in. We'll pit them directly against the Aurors and against those within the Ministry who would directly go against us - Arthur Weasley, Lupin, Cresswell and Amos Diggory. We'll lose half of them and the Aurors and those Hitwizards will be decimated.

"Amelia and what's left of Scrimgeour cannot recruit experienced Aurors and their own Laws won't allow them to deploy recruits. I'll kill her myself. We will not lose another of our own.

"Send them to me in groups of forty. Leave today. No, leave Saturday afternoon. I will train them myself until you have returned with the last of them. They need to know how to apparate, use a blasting hex or killing curse and preferably a bit of English. That will be sufficient. We did well on Saturday. Unfortunately, Bella lost focus in her unnecessary quest to torture Scrimgeour's wife. She should have waited until we knew that the battle was over to play with her food.

"We'll go with quantity over quality for a while. Even Amelia's Hitwizard squad cannot be in two places at once. Time is on our side. We have a just cause, Augustus. We will prevail."

"I will leave Saturday at noon then, my Lord."

"Very good. Binks."

The little elf immediately appeared. "How can Binks help, Master?"

"Bring Mr. Rookwood five of the small bags of gold." A minute later, the elf returned and Rookwood took his leave.

Riddle poured himself a small glass of single-malt. He could win the war with just the gold that Lucius had given him last week.

… - …

ooo ccc ooo

The old scribe admitted to himself that this had been the hardest chapter in the entire tale to write. Either that, or he'd run low on his namesake elixor.

It was Christmas and the castle was nearly empty. McGonagall was apparently out in the halls, enjoying her gift from him.

There was only one thought on his mind,

Merry Christmas.


	16. The Dud Round

.

**Chapter 16 - The Dud Round**

Friday 5 November

"Good afternoon, class. I'm Professor John Damocles. Today we're going to discuss how potions work. What was the first potion you made in class?"

Unsurprisingly, Hermione's hand shot up. She looked around and realized that hers was the only one. Apparently, everyone else had taken a figurative step back.

The cue-ball bald man looked at her a moment, without checking his notes and said, "Yes, Miss Granger?"

"The Boil Cure potion, Sir."

He nodded and asked, "Using the standard recipe, what is the shelf life of the potion?"

"90 days, Professor."

"Without changing the recipe, or using a stasis charm, how could you extend the shelf life?"

"Keep it in a cool place, such as a refrigerator at a constant temperature of 40 - 45 degrees Fahrenheit, Professor."

"Why?"

"In solution, the porcupine quills will eventually degrade. The lower temperature will slow the process. However, I believe that freezing the potion would ruin it, but I haven't personally tested it."

"Very good, Miss Granger. Now for the fun part - without lowering the temperature or using a stasis charm, how could you have a potion available for use a year from now?"

Hermione looked stumped. After fifteen seconds, a few hands were politely raised. Damocles made eye contact with Neville and Susan, who'd put them up and made a small gesture to have them lowered.

Finally she said. "You could increase the amount of porcupine quills by half and mark the potion as non-standard."

"Very good. Five points for critical thinking, Miss Granger. Mr. Longbottom, what was your solution?"

"Make it when you need it, Professor. The ingredients themselves last years and it only takes a few minutes to brew as long as you add them in the proper order."

"Excellent."

Hermione raised her hand and asked, "Which is the right answer, Professor?"

"I was looking for both answers, Miss Granger. Clearly Mrs. Tonks made certain that everyone was familiar with the text _What Goes with What_. The solutions are equivalent in this case because the affected ingredients are inexpensive, the potion can be made in a matter of minutes and Boil Cure potion usually isn't required in an emergency"

His answer made sense to almost everyone, though Hermione still thought in terms of black and white.

"Let's try another. Someone else this time. What are the limitations of the Wolfsbane potion?"

Harry raised his hand.

Damocles' eyes flashed a smile for a moment and he said, "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"Three that I can think of, Sir. It's expensive to make, difficult to brew, and must be consumed the afternoon before the full moon."

"Very good, Mr. Potter. Your individual assignments this week will be to eliminate one of the objectives. I want you to work independently on this. No more than one page on the method and no more than two pages on the rationalization. Your papers are due in two weeks."

It was easily the best potion lesson that Harry had ever had.

… - …

"Goodnight, Dr. G," came the effervescent voice of Ami. Dan swore that the young office manager had a case of perma-grin.

"Good night, Ami. Have a great weekend."

After he locked up and walked out to the back packing lot, an owl fluttered down to him and landed on the roof of his car. He hated that, but said nothing. He opened the Gringotts envelope and read the message that Sneerwell had sent him.

_Those who you seek will arrive at the bank tomorrow morning between 8 and 9. Your future will shine brighter on the way in. She should be last._

He put the letter in his trunk and noticed the broken walking stick with the silver screw on snakehead. _Maybe tomorrow_, he thought.

He was unsurprised to see Ben's car in the front. He had taken to coming over every Friday for a shared dinner. Dan was surprised when Ben announced, "We're going out for steaks tonight."

"What's the occasion?" asked Dan.

"My Ellie's birthday."

Dan felt guilty for having asked. Emma had always taken care of those family details and kept a meticulous calendar. He replied, "Very good. I'll just be a minute."

As Dan was driving them to the Cork and Cleaver, he mentioned the message.

Ben remarked, "They handle the administration of all of the wizards Wills. They must know who is expected to attend."

Dan nodded and replied, "There was a line on the note that read, she should be last. What's that about?"

Ben offered, "Perhaps succession. That level of planning always makes more sense behind a desk than in a firefight. We don't have that degree of precision. So how's Emma?"

"The EKG was Tuesday. Dr. Krebbs will be there on Monday morning at nine. Would you like to come along and meet with him?"

Grateful for the invitation, Ben replied, "I'd like that, if you wouldn't mind." A year ago, Dan would have never made the offer. He added, "It won't be forever."

The younger man admitted, "I hope not."

"Any news from the kids?"

"Hermione wrote that she succeeded in conjuring a drinking glass."

"That sounds pretty advanced," offered Ben.

"I hope so. I hope she doesn't end up in a glassworks making fifty pence glasses all day." They both laughed. Dan added, "Harry's match is tomorrow afternoon. When they play their spring game, let's find a way to go to it."

"I'd like that. I haven't seen a game in almost seventy years."

"I've never been to an official game, so we're both due."

They ate their fillets slowly; not knowing how the next day would turn out. Each hoped that the fortune cookie-like message would turn out for the best. When they were finished, Ben announced, "Next Friday, it's your turn to buy."

"Emma's birthday. I remembered that one."

"Cheers."

When they got home, Ben went upstairs and slept in Harry's room, as had become his habit on Fridays.

Dan went outside and sat on the glider on the front porch. The bugs had died off with the first frost. He didn't miss their nattering around; yet it wasn't quiet either. There was the occasional sound of a car going by on the next street over. The leaves, which were still falling from the trees occasionally rustled in the breeze. It wasn't the same level of peace and quiet that he'd come to appreciate several times at Ben's place. He had a different set of evening noises. There were no automobiles and more critters and forest noises; different but equally nice.

His mind settled; he went inside and had a restful night.

… - …

While Dan was reading Sneerwell's note, an owl fluttered in front of Draco. The message was brief.

_I will pick you up in an hour. Expect to be gone for the weekend. He'll see you tonight. Gringotts Saturday._

_Mother_

Theo asked, "Will reading?"

"Aunt Bella. When was yours?"

"I put it off until winter break. I don't think I'll be coming back after then."

Draco thought for a moment and replied, "Things might change."

"Take care of yourself."

… - …

Two hours later. Draco was sitting in his mother's study, rubbing his arm; staring at the painful tattoo. Narcissa said, "At 8:45 tomorrow morning, we're going to the alley and walking directly into the bank. Lord Black and Auror Tonks will be there too."

Draco asked, "About what?"

Ignoring his question, she continued, "He and your father will also be there. Don't get into an argument with anyone and don't say anything to the goblins except yes, no or thank you without my express approval. Is that completely understood?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Be ready to go at half eight."

… - …

Saturday 6 November

Draco woke up in a cold sweat. He'd dreamed of his summer encounter with the Dark Lord again.

_He'd never known such pain in his life. He'd been called into the North Wing of the manor and Voldemort had calmly explained to him about the importance of being a good follower._

"_Even leaders need to be good followers. Do you understand that?"_

_Perhaps he'd replied too quickly, for the next think that he knew, the Dark Lord had cast the Cruciatus curse on him and held it for five whole seconds as his father had stood by and grimly watched._

"_Get up, Draco. Harry Potter withstood my curse like a man and didn't cry. When next you are called, you will obey without hesitation. Do you understand? Hard work and obedience will allow us to be successful in our cause."_

He'd never forget that evening, or his father.

_A school full of orphans._ That's what Hogwarts was turning into. He'd talk with his mother this afternoon and ask about moving away. His father might want to serve the Dark Lord until he got himself killed, but he didn't. He wanted to live his own life and make his own choices.

An hour later, he was putting on his cloak to go to his crazy Aunt Bella's Will reading. He wished that he'd ripped up the note and stayed at school.

… - …

_**Where's Dumbledore's hand?**_

_**Rita Skeeter**_

_This photo clearly indicates that Albus Dumbledore was missing a hand on 9 October. Since then, the rest of him has gone missing, as well. Hogwarts custodian Argus Filch confirmed, "Yes, his hand went missing earlier in the year. Nobody reported finding it."_

_Anyone with information about Dumbledore or his hand should contact the Ministry._

"That's just gross," commented Susan as she put the paper down and got up from the table.

… - …

Tonks and Thielman were assigned as the Diagon Alley backup squad. Rufus agreed to fill in for her when she was at the Will reading. Graves and Green were the regular alley patrol. Rufus found Green the day earlier, before his shift was over and suggested, "Spend more time in the Diagon side this weekend. Gringotts should be pretty busy."

Nym was uncertain why she'd decided to go. It was extremely unlikely that Aunt Bellatrix had left her anything that she actually wanted. On the other hand, it was fairly likely that she hadn't updated her Will in the last fifteen years and she might receive a load. She was certain that it would be an interesting day.

… - …

"Harry, read this on page 8."

_**Riddle's War**_

_**Barnabas Cuffe**_

_Interim Minister Amos Diggory stated that with the recent attacks against the senior members of the British Magical Government, Tom Riddle and his Death Eaters have declared war against Britain."_

_Diggory went on to state. "Any and all actions against them have been sanctioned. At this point, they are enemies of the State and have no rights."_

_Continued on page 3_

"What do you think?"

Susan piped in, "He's got my vote."

Hermione observed, "We're not old enough to vote."

At the Staff table, Vector and Sinistra were having the same conversation with Flitwick and Sprout. All four echoed Susan's sentiment. There was no place for Riddle or his followers in Wizarding Britain.

At the Hogshead pub, Smedley, who was in early for the stated reason of reading the paper, and the morning pub crowd were talking about the same thing and toasting to the idea. Then again, Smedley would raise his glass to almost anything.

Aberforth made eye contact with his favorite regular and nodded in agreement. The Death Eaters had no place in British society – high or low.

… - …

Four magazines. Seven rounds each. Two for the pistol, which had yet to be fired in anger and two for the little rifle. After watching five seasons of Miami Vice, it had occurred to Dan that they could run low on ammo thirty seconds into a fight. Britain being Britain, he couldn't just walk into the neighborhood gun store, buy more magazines and improve his position. Though it had never occurred in the past, they would have to be careful not to stay too long.

As was his custom, Fortescue was in early that Saturday morning. Dan greeted him cheerily and asked, "What's the new flavor this time? The lemonade was very good."

The ice cream master beamed at him and replied, "Marshmallow. I only make it once in a while. Will you be around later to try some? It should be done by noon."

Ben remarked, "It sounds great. We'll try to get our work done early and be down later."

The ice cream man went back to his work and the two men made their way up to the top of the stairway. Dan noted the pained look that Ben had on his face when he was climbing the last few steps. The older man never complained about his arthritis.

They went about their respective tasks. Dan opened the windows while Ben locked the doors and propped chairs next to the nobs. Dan unpacked the tube, took out the little rifle and carefully set out the spare for the Delisle and the one for the pistol a foot away, so they never mistook the one for the other.

He looked up and down the street in a left to right sweeping motion.

It was 8:20.

… - …

Peter Hillrock and the other four escaped prisoners, George, Hudson, Barton and Old Thompson who the Death Eaters released had been told that they would be required to perform a service for the Dark Lord when requested in exchange for their release. At the time it seemed like the better end of a deal that freed them from the horrors of Azkaban.

Last night, the call came and now the newly-minted Death Eaters were told to be prepared to portkey to the apparition point by Gringotts in full Death Eater regalia and be prepared to fight in the event that they were called this morning.

They sat nervously, holding a length of chain with a man named Antonin Dolohov.

… - …

Walden Macnair considered himself a survivor. He attributed much of his success to a combination of timing and location. While some would say that the key to success was being in the right place at the right time, Macnair took the more pragmatic approach – not being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He had survived the purges of '81 and 82 largely by being in a position that no one wanted. He'd passed on Bella's ill-fated trip to the Longbottoms in '81 and again a week ago at Scrimgeour's back garden.

He'd shaken his head in disbelief when he was called by the Dark Lord last night only to be told to be available this morning in case there was trouble when he and the Malfoys attended a Will reading. _Fools,_ he thought. Of course there would be trouble. A million things could go wrong with a plan of _strut up the street, scare everyone along the way, and just walk into the bank._ None of them would ever think of obscuring their identity; believing it beneath them.

He had both of his wands in his hands as he waited for the inevitable call.

… - …

Augustus Rookwood had also been summoned last night; they all had. Like Macnair, he'd said nothing when the Dark Lord gave his instructions for the morning. He hadn't been asked for an opinion.

He envisioned various scenarios. The Goblins or Ministry Hitwizards could be stationed just inside the bank. They would avoid Fortescue's – too much collateral damage. If called, they would either come from the Ministry or Knockturn. He didn't want to be trapped in a pincer movement, so he decided to go early and wait in the burned out remains of the Dragonhide shop – just outside of the eastern apparition point. He was in position at 8:30.

If nothing went wrong, he'd spend the next month recruiting hired help for the Dark Lord.

… - …

Dark Lords didn't show excitement. Yet the anticipation was hardly hidden from his face. He hadn't even read the morning paper. He sniffed the air. It was cold and clear. In his Hogwarts days, his housemates would have said it was a good day for quidditch. His nemesis, Dumbledore would probably be puttering around the castle; secretly hoping that Gryffindor would trample Ravenclaw.

The Malfoy boy had proven useful last night – not for his abilities, rather information. That the doddering old fool had been looking frail in his rare appearances around the school was good news. There was no reason for it to be deceptive. Then there were the poor defense teachers year after year. His curse rune on the top of the classroom door was still working; still undetected after all those years. He smiled at the thought - lasting legacies for so little effort.

Narcissa's description of the Black Wills intrigued him – half back to the family and half to the survivors or other beneficiaries. He would institute that among his followers. In a few generations, he would have real wealth of his own. He enjoyed long-term planning.

He didn't anticipate trouble today. Surely his mere presence would strike fear into the hearts of any potential adversaries. Hopefully, he'd get his picture in the paper and it would be much easier to recruit locally. If some hapless Auror stumbled across them, it would be one less Auror at the end of the day.

It was 8:40.

… - …

Amelia walked by Michelle's office and was unsurprised to see her already there. Saturday mornings were quiet and generally, they had few interruptions. Objectively, her paperwork was atrocious. Thicknesse's had been much easier to understand, even if he'd been a traitor.

At the same time, the Hitwizard team had quietly proven its effectiveness. Bones was willing to overlook quite a few badly filled out forms, recalling that she still had a home to go to at night.

"Good morning, Michelle. I wasn't expecting you in this morning."

"Mike's off at some meeting with Minister Diggory, so I thought I'd spend an hour battling the true evil of our world – parchment. What are your plans for the day?"

"Harry has a quidditch match after lunch. I thought I'd stop up and see it. Would you like to go with?"

Instantly, the evil parchment didn't seem so powerful. She replied, "How about a noon lunch at the Three Broomsticks and we can go see the match. I'll treat."

"It's a deal, but I'll treat."

It was 8:45.

… - …

At 8:45 the three Malfoys and the Dark Lord appeared at the western apparition point, just outside the second hand shop where that Parkinsons had met their end. Riddle gave a glance further down Diagon towards the ministry and found the street empty. Down Knockturn, a woman was walking into Borgin & Burkes, where he'd worked for a year when he was twenty. Another middle-aged wizard was walking down the stairs from the second floor of the massage parlor. They were about 600 feet to the bank. Sensing no danger, they started walking.

… - …

Hoping to arrive there before her aunt, Tonks apparated to the eastern point, just between the ice cream shop and the bank. Looking right, she thought she saw movement in the burned out shop next to where Malkin had repaired her store. Looking left, she saw the Malfoys coming up the street and_, Yikes!_ He-who-must-not-be… Tom Riddle. She ran through Fortescue's out the back door and began casting _Patronus_ message charms to any and every one that she could think of.

… - …

Auror Mark Thielman missed facing Riddle a month ago. He had been on Azkaban duty and had been given the week-end off, just the night before. In the Auror Ready Room, Rufus, who was subbing for Tonks, said, "Wands out, Eastern Apparition point. Ready? Saddle up. Go."

… - …

Newly promoted Senior Aurors Bob Sunset and his stunningly beautiful and exceedingly competent partner Alyx were in Scarborough, practicing surveillance with two of the new trainees, Otis and Niko, when they received the Tonks' message.

They were five minutes away.

… - …

Farther away than she wanted to be, Tonks made herself a portkey for the apparition point and activated it; landing right on top of Scrimgeour, Michelle and Amelia, who had just appeared themselves. Thielman shouted, "Damn it, woman."

… - …

Riddle had sensed the _Patronus_ charms being cast and directed Draco, "Walk with me, perhaps a little faster. There is no sense to unduly tempting fate." Draco took three elongated steps to catch up to the hairless man who was walking surprisingly fast.

… - …

Inside, Ben judged that the four were closer than 50 yards but more than 25. He set the elevation to 25 and tracked the man with the long blond hair. Step, step, step, _pfft._ Lucius was hit in the right side, just below the rib cage. Silently cursing himself as he worked the bolt, Ben guessed that he'd punctured a lung.

… - …

Riddle grabbed Draco's arm and called all of the Death Eaters through the Mark. He heard Narcissa yell, but hadn't seen a spell as they were behind him. Still holding Draco, he began running towards the bank.

… - …

Ben aimed at the bald man and pulled the trigger. C_lick._ Nothing happened. Ben furiously worked the bolt and said, "Check that round. Either it was a dud, or the firing pin broke."

Dan looked at the bullet and saw the indent on the primer. He said, "Dud round."

… - …

Dolohov told the new Death Eaters, "Wands out. Kill anything that moves. Go!" He'd apparate to the eastern point in a few seconds.

He counted to twenty and left.

… - …

Ben's attention was drawn to the newly arrived Death Eaters. _Pfft_. Miss. He worked the bolt without taking his eye off of the target. _Pfft_. Barton went down. _Pfft_. Miss. _Pfft_ Hudson followed. The other three had reached Narcissa and were showering the Aurors, who were strictly in defensive positions with curses. _Pfft_. George's neck exploded, though a hex from the aurors hit the unlucky man at the same time. _Pfft._ Miss.

Ben changed out the empty magazine as Dan cursed himself that he hadn't thought to bring an extra box of bullets He took the bullets from his spare magazine and reloaded Ben's.

_Pfft._ Hillrock was hit in the chest.

… - …

Riddle saw Scrimgeour getting up. The old Auror was too easy of a target. He paused for a second and a midnight blue spell leapt from his wand and hit Scrimgeour in the back.

_Pfft._ He felt his knee shatter.

Draco saw the clump of aurors arrive at the same time. When the Dark Lord stopped, he cast an overpowered _Sectumsempra_, cutting Michelle, just below the knee.

… - …

Ben cursed himself that his shot had hit the snake man, but just. He worked the bolt and fired. _Pfft. _Riddle was hit in the shoulder.

… - …

As Ben's second shot had nicked the Dark Lord, Narcissa heard steps behind her. Instinctively, she cast _Avada Kedavra_ as she was spinning around and Auror Paul Green, literally never knew what hit him. Ben aimed at the woman and grazed her left arm.

She saw Voldemort go to one knee and quickly cast at Auror Steven Graves. She missed and he tried casting a stunner while running towards her that she easily dodged. Focusing herself, she cast again and Grave's life had ended.

The way behind them was clear.

… - …

Pop, pop, pop, pop.

Macnair, Mulciber, Jugson and Dolohov had arrived, wands out, ready to fight. Macnair fired a bone exploding hex at Tonks, hitting her on the hip. She went down, screaming in pain. A second later he was hit with a _Percutio_ hex and died moments later.

Thielman cast at Dolohov and missed, just as Rufus had cast an overpowered slashing hex at his neck. Antonin was eligible for the headless hunt.

… - …

_Pfft._ Ben missed.

_Pfft_. Ben fired once more at Riddle hitting him in the side of the head. It may have been a trick of the light, but Ben swore that he'd seen a black mist leave the body and enter the blond teenager.

_Pfft._ Ben fired at the lad, but missed.

With a practiced motion, he switched magazines again and asked, "How many rounds have we got left?"

Dan replied, "Seven in the one you just put in, seven in mine."

Ben said, "Shuck four out of yours. When I'm down to two, we leave." Dan ejected four rounds from his own magazine and refilled Ben's empty one. He reinserted his magazine.

… - …

Old Thompson knew what he was looking for. He scanned the windows, saw movement, and cast a killing curse up to the third floor window. Unfortunately, he missed.

_Pfft._

It was the last think he ever did.

… - …

Draco felt completely unbalanced. For an instant, he had an utterly blinding headache, then it subsided, as he felt the Dark Lord's presence. _Pfft._ The next second, he had a fairly large hole in his stomach.

… - …

Amelia knew that they were in deep shite. She glanced left as Rufus had just cast a gruesome slashing hex at Dolohov. She glanced right as Thielman went down from an A-K from Jugson. _Pfft._ Before she could move her wand, Jugson's neck exploded as if hit by a solid _reducto_. She knew that neither she nor Rufus had cast it, and they were the only ministry people left standing. In a sudden epiphany, it all came together for her. She ducked as a killing curse zipped over her head.

… - …

Before she passed out from blood loss, Michelle took one last hex at Mulciber. He went down and her vision went white.

… - …

_Pfft._ Ben fired again at Draco and missed. The glowing red eyes of the face that looked up at him completely unnerved him. Dan pulled him down as another jet of green light flew by.

_Pfft_. Shaken up by his own near-death experience, Ben missed again.

… - …

Amelia got up and only saw a very winded Rufus standing. Everyone else was apparently stunned, badly wounded or dead. She saw Tonks make a pathetic effort at hexing Lucius and yelled, "Wands down. Everyone." Just then, she saw a jet of green light pass an inch to her right. _Pfft_. She spun around and saw Draco knocked back. He fell into a sitting position raised his arm to fire, _pfft_, and was dead.

Ben changed magazines again and waited. They surveyed the street again and couldn't see any bad guys moving. Ben took a step back from the window to avoid being seen. Dan opened the door to go downstairs.

… - …

Within a minute a hundred people had gathered around. Healer Crabtree from St. Mungo's had arrived. Amelia went to help Michelle and missed seeing a man walk purposefully out of the ice cream shop and plunge a splintered walking stick into Lucius Malfoy.

… - …

Rufus walked around, looking at the bodies. He saw a prone Narcissa attempt to cast a spell at a prone Michelle. Before she could fire, he cast a _Percutio_ at her and she let out her last breath.

… - …

Dan felt ashamed. He'd killed Lucius, or at least sped his death up by a few minutes. Then he'd made his way over to the blond snot and kicked his neck as hard as he could. Granted, he wasn't the only one mutilating the dead or dying Death Eaters, but it no longer felt satisfying. He walked back up to Fortescue's and made his way upstairs. No one noticed the .45 pistol in his hand.

… - …

Anna was the last on the scene, but had the presence of mind to take a dozen quick photos of the faces in the crowd. She cast _Sonorus_ and said, "Everyone move back. Sit on the Gringotts steps if you want to watch, but move back."

Connie had been walking around as fact as she could, bagging and tagging wands, trying to beat the scavenger hunters. She cringed as she picked up Voldemort's wand, put it in the bag and sealed it shut.

… - …

Two minutes before, Rita Skeeter apparated to the west point, looked around and walked as quickly as she could to the bank. She could see spellfire going in every direction. With a flash of self-preservation, she changed into her beetle form and flew to the top of the marble steps at Gringotts.

It was a bloodbath.

More specifically, it was a short bloodbath. Though she'd arrived within a minute of Lucius first going down, it was largely over a minute after she arrived. She watched as Amelia cast _Patronus_ message after message.

Within a few minutes, the gathered crowd; now in the hundreds had been pushed back. She returned to her human form to avoid getting stepped on. Looking around again, it appeared that every Ministry employee was on the scene; needed or not.

By 9:10, she estimated that there were a thousand people milling about.

… - …

Twenty minutes earlier, Riddle realized the folly of parading up Diagon Alley the moment he sensed the first _Patronus_ message being cast. They'd been seen, and had at best, thirty seconds. He hurried them along and had Draco be closer, in the increasingly likely event that he needed to call the rest of his followers. The way to the bank was still clear.

A few seconds went by and he was increasingly optimistic that they'd make it inside the bank, and could reevaluate their options on the way out. Without warning, Lucius went down, bleeding from the gut. It was clearly a _Percutio_ hex, yet he hadn't sensed any magic or heard anything.

He grabbed Draco's arm and forced the message, _Come now,_ holding it an extra second for effect. A snake-like smile crossed his face when he saw the Aurors land on top of each other. He cast a sped-up version of the curse that he'd previously used to guard his ring. Scrimgeour had been hit in the back and hadn't noticed a thing. If by chance he survived the day, he'd die a horrible death within a month.

Suddenly, he felt excruciating pain, as his left knee shattered. He must have been hit with a bone breaker or a _Percutio_ hex and not noticed. He was casting a killing curse at the pink haired Auror, when his right shoulder shattered at the ball. He wondered who'd had the nerve to cast a spell at Lord Voldemort.

Seconds later, he realized that he'd been reduced to spirit form again. _Fortune favors the prepared_, he thought as he forced his essence into the boy. It had taken far more effort than he'd remembered with Quirrel; perhaps do to the age of the host.

Just then, he felt the boy's gut explode and for the second time within a minute, found himself on the ground. He gathered his strength for a moment before standing, as Bones gave her ridiculous command for everyone to drop their wands. He glanced up at some fool who lived above the ice cream shop and cast a killing curse at him. He'd torture him slowly later. When her back was turned, he pulled Draco's wand and pointed it at her, "_Avada Kedavra_."

Somehow he had missed her by fractions of an inch, before he could cast again, it felt like he'd been hit in the chest with a sledge hammer. He was knocked off his unsteady feet; momentarily sitting in the ground before the boy died.

He looked around for a toddler or a child to possess, but didn't see one. He knew his cloud was visible to those who looked carefully and didn't want to find out what would happen if someone hit it with a vanishing charm.

… - …

Deep within Gringotts, a hundred feet beneath the lobby was the inheritance room. Gumeye, the young Weekend Attendant, was terrified when Head Teller Sneerwell and Lord Ragnok himself walked into the small room at 8:45.

Ragnok stated, "You will have a busy morning, Attendant Gumeye. You had best go get another stack of envelopes. Head Teller Sneerwell and I will watch your station while you retrieve more supplies."

They didn't have long to wait. The young Attendant wasn't even back yet when the first name appeared on the page.

8:47 Jim Barton

"It's starting," remarked Sneerwell.

"Let us hope that the results are profitable in every way," agreed Ragnok.

8:47 Donald Hudson

8:47 Thomas George

8:47 Ronald Hillrock

8:47 Paul Green

8:47 Steven Graves

8:48 Walden Macnair

8:48 Carl Thompson

8:48 Antonin Dolohov

8:48 Tom Riddle

A moment later, the name disappeared. Sneerwell asked, "How can that be?"

"It will be apparent soon enough."

8:48 Mark Thielman

8:48 Jerry Jugson

8:48 William Mulcibur

8:49 Draco Malfoy

8:49 Tom Riddle

Again it disappeared. Ragnok proclaimed, "There can only be one explanation."

8:49 Lucius Malfoy

8:50 Narcissa Malfoy

Finally the book stopped, and then began writing the names of the witches and wizards to be notified. Ragnok thought for a moment and stated, "Perhaps our answer awaits in the lobby."

… - …

After possessing and being ejected from Draco's body, the newly re-spirited Riddle felt only pain and was far too weak to do anything right now. He didn't remember feeling this weak in 1981, nor this insignificant. He drifted towards Riddle Manor to plan his next move.

… - …

Meanwhile, Sirius Black was waiting inside the Bronze room. At nine, he put his newspaper down and realized that he and Stonegrinder were the only two in the room. Stonegrinder called for an assistant and demanded, "Check the lobby. Those wizards should be here by now. I'm ready to start."

Ragnok and Sneerwell walked into the room. Sneerwell immediately stood and announced, "Lord Black, this is Lord Ragnok, the leader of our people."

Black, who was already standing, walked over, extended his hand and said, "Lord Ragnok, it is an honor to meet you. I believe we have business today."

Ragnok studied the man for a moment, using the goblin form of legilimency. He smiled and replied, "I believe we do."

Stonegrinder made a gesture to protest, but was rebuked. Ragnok directed, "Go get the Malfoy wills – all three of them. We'll sort this out. When he'd left, Ragnok asked, "How many?"

Sirius replied, "Five that we know of. I expect to destroy the sixth today."

"The Lestrange witch had it?"

He nodded once and replied, "I believe you'll find a small gold cup in her vault."

Ragnok replied, "It will likely end up as your vault in a few minutes."

Stonegrinder came back with the three wills and Ragnok commented as he carefully examined them. "The parents' Wills were easiest. Lucius went 50-50 wife and son. Draco went 50-50 back to the parents. Narcissa went 50-50 Draco and Lord Black."

After a moment, he continued, "Succession is important here. Draco died first, followed by Lucius. Thus his estate went entirely to Narcissa. You receive the entire estate, net of fees and fines."

As he examined the other stack of parchments, he announced, "The Lestrange witch was the recipient of her husband's and Brother-in-law's estate; net of fines and fees on 15 October. Prior to that, the Ministry branded all Death Eaters as terrorists and imposed a 50 percent fine on their estates. Gringotts received 25 percent of the fine portion, plus the 4 percent estate disposition fee. Thus, 46 percent of the Lestrange vault is yours. Perhaps you'd like to go visit it now. With your permission, Lord Black, I'll accompany you myself."

They stopped at vault 117, and Ragnok opened the door as the terrified cart looked on. Inside, it was nearly full with sacks of gold coins. The sacks were still marked with tags; identifying the properties that had been sold.

Sirius paid them no attention. His eyes carefully searched the shelves until he found what he'd been searching for in the second self from the top. "It's the two inch gold cup on the second shelf with the standing badger engraved on it."

Ragnok carefully examined the cup without touching it. He sensed the spirit that it contained.

Black said, "Lord Ragnok, with your permission." He pointed to the inner pocket in his robe. Ragnok nodded and Sirius carefully took a letter-sized needle-thin dagger and said, "Lord Ragnok, it would be an honor if you would destroy it."

Ragnok studied Black for a moment and replied, "Your intent is honorable. Let us do it together."

The cart attendant pushed a bench over, that Ragnok could stand on, so they would be the same height. Together they held the dagger tightly and struck down on the cup. It gave a hideous scream and an image of a twenty year-old Riddle briefly appeared. As quickly as it had appeared, it dissipated into nothingness.

Both Lords let out a breath of relief and Sirius helped Ragnok off the bench as Sneerwell looked on in amazement. Sirius said, "I believe we're finished here for now."

"Then let us ride back to the lobby. "There may be a bit more business to attend to."

… - …

Harry and the rest of the team were just finishing breakfast together when Luna walked by and announced, "Enjoy your day today, Harry Potter."

She skipped across the Great Hall to the exit as they watched in wonderment.

… - …

Gumeye had already had a very memorable day. Head Teller Sneerwell and Lord Ragnok himself had come down to inspect his station. Further Lord Ragnok had greeted him by name! His brother, Lidless, was going to be so envious when he heard the news. It was as if they somehow knew it was going to be an extraordinary morning. He'd never seen that many listings, all at once.

Then the listing for Tom Riddle appeared and disappeared – twice! Gumeye had never even heard of such a thing happening; let alone seeing it with his own eyes. The book of deaths never made a mistake.

Sneerwell had been gone about twenty minutes when the book went active again.

9:20 Tom Riddle appeared in spider silk thin writing and unlike the other two times – it stayed.

Gumeye debated what to do. He knew that Lord Ragnok and Head teller Sneerwell would want to know, but he didn't dare leave his post. Screwing up his courage, he did something that he'd never done in his two years as an attendant. He called for a messenger runner. Messenger runners were several grades above him and his calling them were almost unheard of.

If he was wrong and he'd called for Lord Ragnok, he was sure that he'd be roasted on a spit. The young goblin rationalized that he'd only lose a hand or an ear if he did the same with the head teller. He carefully wrote a short message, sealed it and handed it to the runner, stating, "Deliver this to Head Teller Sneerwell. Be quick about it."

As the minutes passed, he contemplated if he would be given the choice of which hand or which ear. Five minutes passed, then ten. Gumeye was as nervous as a young goblin can be. Another minute passed and Lord Ragnok walked into the room, accompanied by the two extremely larges goblins and their poleaxes. They looked at the little goblin with disdain. Gumeye was sure that he'd lived his last day?

Ragnok asked, "Exactly what happened, Book Watcher, Gumeye?"

"This." The little goblin showed Ragnok the book. "It's not as thick as the others, but it didn't disappear like the last two times."

Ragnok mentally compared the time listed in the book with the activities in the Lestrange vault and was certain that his reasoning had been correct. He looked at Gumeye and directed, "You did well to notify me of this event. No one should be told of this, Apprentice-Teller Gumeye. Finish your shift and you can start in the lobby tomorrow." He looked at the young goblin and nodded before leaving.

… - …

Of the two, Ben felt like he had a bit more situational awareness at the moment. Dan walked back up to the room, as Ben looked out at the rapidly gathering crowd. Ben put the Delisle back into the tube and packed up all of the fired casings, along with the dud round. He asked, "You OK?"

Dan gave him half a nod.

Ben asked, "Wanna go down and get some ice cream?"

Dan shook his head and replied, "Go ahead. I'll bring the case back home."

"OK. I'll be there in an hour or so."

With that, Dan disappeared and Ben closed and locked the door, then walked down the stairway. Florean was looking at a crowd that was seven deep at his counter. Ben asked, "Need some help?"

The ice cream man was beyond grateful and replied, "You scoop, I'll take the orders."

Ben replied, "I'll wash up and be back in a minute."

For an hour, Ben scooped cone after cone while Florean mostly did the same. The fact of the matter was that most of the cones served that day were given away. Fortescue chalked it up to his _Death of a Dark Lord_ special. Ben didn't complain. He commented, "I worked in an ice cream shop when I was just a lad. We were never this busy though."

The ice cream man suggested, "Maybe you could come back tomorrow morning?"

Ben thought about if a moment and replied, "I'd like that." He turned to leave and literally bumped into Amelia. After helping her up, he asked, "Are you OK?"

She nodded and replied, "You never forget it."

"What's that, Director?"

"The smell of Hoppe's number 9 solvent."

"I expect not. Where would a fine lady like you have come across that?"

"Aside from your son-in-law's home, it's been fifty years, since I'd been around that non-magical hardware cleaner."

"Perhaps we should continue this over some ice cream?"

"That would be acceptable, Dr. Olifson."

… - …

ooo ccc ooo

The old scribe was exhausted. He couldn't remember reporting so much action. Yet he knew that the tale was far from over. He placed his report and a spare bottle of his namesake elixor on McGonagall's desk.

Just then, he spotted the old bat walking down the hallway. He put the hood over his head, hoping that she hadn't seen him; memories of his afternoon as a shih tzu still clearly etched in his mind. He was almost out of earshot when he heard, "Happy New Year, Mr. Crow."

Perhaps it was time to revisit the teens.

McGonagall looked at the report, avoiding the dripping red ink that was collecting on her floor. The card underneath it that read Home – 9200391 looked interesting to her.

… - …


	17. Interesting Meetings

**Part IV – Daddy, what did you do during the war?**

**Chapter 17 – Interesting meetings**

Saturday 6 November

"And Potter's got the snitch. This must be one of the shorter games on record. The final score is Gryffindor 160 – Ravenclaw nil."

"Thank you, Jordon," said McGonagall. Please remain seated. Minister Diggory and other Ministry officials are here to make an announcement. You will, of course, show your complete respect."

With some effort, Diggory made his way up to the announcer's platform and looked out at the crowd for a moment. In addition to the three hundred or so students and staff, over two hundred parents and alumni were in the stands.

"Good afternoon. We have some important information to bring to you. This morning, the wizard born as Tom Riddle, also known as the Dark Lord or Lord Voldemort was confirmed to have been killed in Diagon alley, along with the vast majority of his remaining followers. I say confirmed to have been killed, because Gringotts confirmed his death. They didn't do that in 1981."

There was a brief outbreak of cheering that quickly died down. It was obvious that Minister Diggory had more to say.

"Among his Marked followers killed were Jerry Jugson, Walden Macnair, William Mulciber, Antonin Dolohov Lucius Malfoy and his wife Narcissa. Five other Azkaban escapees were also killed. Another one of the current Hogwarts students, Draco Malfoy had recently taken the Mark and was killed after he attempted to murder several of the Ministry Aurors."

There was a brief outburst from several factions of students. McGonagall simply called, "Silence," and the noise ceased.

Diggory continued, "This was a great victory for the law-abiding wizarding folk of Britain. Yet it has come at a considerable cost. Several Ministry Aurors were killed this morning. Several others are greatly wounded.

"Some of those who were killed in the last few months were your parents. Many of them died needlessly, following a madman. Some of them were your classmates. Three of them died in the mistaken belief that the sociopath, who passed himself off as a pureblood of great heritage, would provide great reward for their service. Instead, he brought death and financial ruin.

"One of your former professors allowed himself to be seduced by those promises.

"A few of you may have the mistaken notion that taking up the fight would somehow be a noble or worthy cause. I'm not here to sway you; rather to observe that such a path will quickly lead to your taking your last breath."

No one there would accuse the man of mincing words.

He continued, "Some of you who have become orphans in the struggle; whether this year, or in years past, will have the opportunity to take up your family seat in the Wizengamot. When you do, it is my hope that you'll find common ground with your fellows and help lead the wizarding world into the twenty-first century, rather than make a futile attempt to keep it mired in the nineteenth.

"That said, it is my hope that the class curriculums here can quickly evolve. The non-magical world has set foot on the moon and can instantly communicate with someone in another country. We need to embrace this technology. We cannot hide from it.

"Some of you lost parents through no fault of their own. The Ministry will provide scholarships to any student who has lost a parent due to Death Eaters or Tom Riddle. This offer will be retroactive to your first year here. Your Gringotts vaults will be credited by the end of the month.

"Those of you whose parents died following Tom Riddle will receive new vault keys, net of fines incurred by your parents' bad decisions by the end of the month.

"As you know, my son Cedric was among those killed this year under the orders of that madman. The people who chose to follow him all murdered or tortured innocent people as part of their initiation rites. It is possible; probable that another villain will attempt to rise during your lifetimes. Should that happen again, there will be no mercy, no quarter given, no acceptance of lame excuses for those who willingly follow the path of lawlessness. As your Professor McGonagall has told you in your first Transfiguration class, you have been warned.

"Thank you for your time and attention."

There was applause from most of the students. Some was polite. Many applauded enthusiastically.

Hermione asked Susan, "What did you think?"

She replied, "I think Minister Diggory sees thing strictly in black and white and was a bit blunt in his words. In the same breath, I'm grateful that our generation won't get dragged further into a war that promised riches and delivered death."

Hermione replied, "I don't see him reaching very far across the political aisle; but it's only been six months since he lost his son."

… - …

Riddle's remaining spirit finally made its way back to Riddle Manor, where he had kept Nagini. He joined with the snake and felt slightly better. Though it had been years, he didn't remember feeling so very weak in 1981.

He rested, hoping to regain a bit of his strength.

… - …

Most burglars are in and out of a home within five minutes; ten at the outside. A large minority are in and out in 90 seconds. Each additional minute inside greatly increases the likelihood of either the owner coming home, or an alarm, alerting authorities.

In this case, Augustus Rookwood had no concern that the owners might arrive. They were lying dead on the street in Diagon alley, while the DMLE people examined the bodies or made a half-hearted attempt at crowd control. He had previously been invited into the manor – both in the main part occupied by the Malfoys as well as the north wing; most recently occupied by Tom Riddle. Due to that, he had no concern about the sole remaining occupant of the home, Binks the house elf.

Rookwood wasn't there to steal pencils from Lucius' study, or the family silver, as he imagined Mundungus Fletcher would have; had he been alive. He was after the Dark Lord's gold stash. He went after it the easy way and called, "Binks."

"Mr. Rookwood, how can I help you?"

"Binks, your previous masters have died. I would like you to live with me and be my elf."

The little elf was distraught at his words but could feel that Lucius, Narcissa and their son were gone. He agreed and asked, "Where will we live?"

Rookwood knew that they couldn't stay long and replied, "We will be travelling for a while. Can you gather food for two weeks as well as the gold coins that were given to the Dark Lord to use? He was killed too."

Binks could find no fault in his request and was quickly ready to go.

The ex-unspeakable debated asking Binks if Malfoy had stashes of money of other currencies around the house, but decided not to. Sooner or later, the manor would be searched and he'd left no specific trace that he'd been there.

A moment later, they were in Folkstone, purchasing a ticket on the Chunnel to Calais. The Italian issued passport that he'd purchased weeks ago had worked perfectly.

… - …

Hero, Serial-Killer or Vigilante – Amelia could envision all three descriptions of Ben Olifson being accurate. Additionally, he had saved her life, Amos' and Tonks', all in one morning. On their own, they were achieving no better than one Auror lost or critically wounded per Death Eater apprehended or brought down. She could have expected to have lost most of her Aurors; all of them if Riddle had started hiring thugs to the level that he had in 1980.

Had Ben been a cold-blooded killer or a careful planner? He'd set up ambushes and waited; and gotten in and out with military precision.

As she sipped her glass of Ogden's that evening, it occurred to her that if word ever got out that muggles had gone on a killing spree, a war would likely break out. Ben didn't strike her as the type who wanted recognition; neither did Dan for that matter, though she hadn't specifically talked with him. She was certain that they would both make the point that they were only trying to protect their children. Given that everyone knew who the Death Eaters were and that now arrests were made, she couldn't really blame them.

She considered the physical evidence. The bodies had invariably been cremated. If any of the slugs had remained inside the bodies, they'd already been destroyed. She could go to the sites and summon any slugs that had missed or passed through their targets.

She tried to rationalize his actions on a case by case basis

*Assisted an Auror under attack, Nick Straighthand. If a wizard had assisted the fallen LEO, she'd have put him in for an Order of Merlin – Third Class.

*Ben completely shut down the first attack at Hogsmeade. Amos would doubtless find a way to privately present the man with an award and it would be deserved.

*Pettigrew and the Lestrange brothers. Anyone assisting in putting them down would be rewarded.

*Second Hogsmeade attack. Same.

*Put down the Dark Lord. Order of Merlin first class and knighthood – even if only privately.

Finally, she couldn't envision a situation where the interesting man represented a threat to honest society. Her mind made up, she needed to confer with Amos and distract Connie and Anna.

… - …

Sunday 7 November

Hermione put down the newspaper and asked, "So do you believe it?"

"Dunno. Sirius told us that they been making progress destroying the Horcruxes. Maybe they got rid of them. Based on the picture, they got the right guy, though with Polyjuice, who knows. Not that I'd want it back, but sometimes it was useful to have the scar twinging or not."

She gave him a fierce look and he backed down. "What about Gringotts confirming the death? Minister Diggory told us that they hadn't reported it last time."

"True, but we've both found that somebody saying that someone is dead doesn't make it so. Having them be dead makes it so. I hope he's right and I hope that they've found all of the Death Eaters. Neville's parents were attacked two weeks after Riddle was declared dead last time and he's had to live with that his entire life."

She nodded at the truth.

… - …

Monday 8 November

As she had her morning tea, Amelia again reminded herself of the old adage, _One person can keep a secret._ If news that a nonmagical had killed a dozen or more wizards, there would be generations of panic and prejudice among the traditional line wizards.

On the other hand, she really felt that Amos deserved to know the truth and meet the man who'd saved his and countless other's lives. She wished that she could discuss the situation with Connie and Anna. She felt that she couldn't risk it. She went outside and disappeared.

… - …

Meanwhile, the four teens, along with every student in the school, were reading the Prophet. When they reached the third page they saw Skeeter's column.

_**Who Killed Tom Riddle?**_

_In 1945, when Gellert Grindelwauld was brought down, Albus Dumbledore was quick to come and claim credit. In 1981, when Tom Riddle was defeated for the first time, the same Albus Dumbledore was quick to heap the credit on a toddler named Harry Potter. The professor was reported to have stated that Harry had been chosen to bring down Riddle, and arguably, he had._

_Yet this weekend, while Tom Riddle was killed, Harry Potter was finishing his breakfast with friends before a school quidditch match._

_Ministry sources have yet to announce who is credited with removing Tom Riddle from the Wizarding world, once and for all. This reporter thinks we have a right to know._

Neville asked, "What do you think, Harry?"

"Dunno. Maybe they don't want to chance a repeat of something like what happened to your folks. I mean the war is supposedly over, but what's to prevent Nott or those guys from doing something stupid. Barty Jr. had just finished school the summer before. Who knows? I'm sure they have their reasons."

Hermione gave a thoughtful look. She remarked, "Actually, I could easily see it going the other way. Every article we've read indicates that ordinary people have mutilated the bodies. There must be so much anger out there. There's a difference between reporting the news and helping to create it. People could easily take it out on the kids of the Death Eaters. Maybe it's better if they don't report on this."

No one said anything, but they all thought of Luna.

… - …

At 8AM, Amelia walked into Diggory's office, closed the door, directed her guest to sit, checked for listening charms, and finally announced, "Minister for Magic Diggory, this is Dr. Olifson."

"Ben."

"Amos. I'm glad that I could meet you today."

Though Ben was twenty years older than the minister and had difficulty walking, Amos felt an immediate bond to the man sitting in his office. He was going to make a bit of small talk but realized that it would be unnecessary. Instead, he poured the three of them a glass of single malt. Ben took his and nodded, before taking a first sip.

"I owe you an explanation, of course."

"Go on."

"It started in the 70s. I read the _Prophe_t – the killings, the girls disappearing, whole families. It was pretty obvious, reading the regular newspapers and tying it back to here. Then Harry stopped 'em and your government – Fudge and Dumbledore – let everyone weasel out of going to prison. I don't know how many got murdered in their sleep, or worse, in the years since, but a leopard's spots don't change. Harry told me that they all came back; all but one.

"That young man in the contest; he was your boy, wasn't he?"

Amos nodded.

"Harry said that he was a good lad – played fair.

"That man who could turn into a rat; he killed him. Your boy didn't deserve what happened. Harry said so.

"Anyway, nothing happened. Nothing happened when they all came back like the pack of dogs that they are. Nothing happened when they blew up Em, when they blew up them folk that worked there; not even when their picture ended up in the paper as clear as day. Nothing was gonna get done. It's not your fault; it's just the way it is."

He took a sip from his glass and continued. "So when I was in the hospital with Dan, the kids and that lass who pulled my Emma out of a burning building, I remembered what an old soldier gave me after the war for making his boy right again.

"We had a chance. We had a chance to make it right. We had the names; even got 8x10 glossies of all of 'em. We found a spot; three spots and we waited.

"We didn't have to wait too long for the first – Parkinsons. I had 'em, I had 'em both, but that lad got caught up in it. I wasn't fast enough. He was one of yours, wasn't he?"

Amelia nodded; a tear welling in her eye at the memory of the obstinate clerical who she missed working with every day.

"He was there, Parkinson. He was one of 'em that killed those folk that worked with my girl, Em.

"Parkinson, he'd have cut that lad down in the street without a thought if he'd had the chance – just like with your boy. No thought to it at all. His wife and your lad; they killed each other. Dan was pretty busted up over them, even though they were killers.

"That day in Hogsmeade; I hadn't been there since my Gran took me when I was a lad. They killed those kids. They killed another of your lads. No thought to it.

"I missed. I missed the one that ended up taking your leg. There was too many to get 'em all at once. It took a while.

"Anyways, we got 'em. The hardest part was making sure that the kids wouldn't be there. Harry's a good lad, but nobody's luck runs forever. He's sweet on your lass. Don't hold what I did against him."

Amelia shook her head; silent tears running down her cheeks.

"Riddle's men didn't mean anything to him, did they? Just a means to an end. I suppose it was the same with the ones he lost in the alley that day, or the ones that they killed. That young lass and her boy who got killed were just in those morons' way – no sense to it.

"Well the numbers, they changed a bit that day. They started with twenty-two and that creature. Well, twenty-one – one got himself run over in the parking lot when they blew up Dan's practice in July.

"Dan; he knew who they were. He wanted to go to the police at first. He had that picture and their names. He even has a video of 'em blowing up his office. He must have watched it two-hundred times. Would have started a war that wouldn't have stopped. Thousands would have been killed on both sides."

He took another sip and Amos refilled all of their glasses. His own was also empty.

"My way seemed like a better way.

"We never did find Augustus Rookwood. He never showed himself. We figured it was just a matter of time. Then I read your man Rufus got Bellatrix. Anyway, my story's getting twisted around.

"We went back to Hogsmeade. Good thing too; they was looking to do some serious killing that day. They killed those lads in the post office. Your Susie said one of 'em had a boy at the school.

"Anyway, they came busting out of that shop. I got the first one. We'd seen 'em going in; Dan did. I was looking out the wrong window at the time, but we knew there were seven of 'em.

"Well, we got as many of 'em as fast as I could, until that lass flew by on the broomstick. One of 'em nearly got her. I dropped him before he could do any more damage.

"The kids, they got mixed up with them others. We'd sent 'em back to the Flying Horse that day. Your girl, niece; I didn't know they'd be recruiting those lads there. I didn't mean to put 'em… to put 'em in harm's way."

Amelia choked back a sob and replied, "I know you didn't."

"They looked pretty broken up that night. They came from your… Did they blow up your house too, like Dan's practice?"

She shook her head, biting her lip to suppress the lump in her throat

"Good. Anyway, the next day, we got the letter telling us that they'd be there before nine, so we set up and they were walking up the street, as bold as brass."

Amelia made note to ask about the letter, but said nothing. Olifson was on a roll.

"I took aim and put a round through blondie – Lucius was his name. Then Big Ugly grabbed the lad's arm and poked it with his wand. I fired at him twice, but missed the first time; hit him in the leg. A bunch of 'em showed up right away, and it was getting out of hand. They were all running towards the others and were hard to hit. I missed as often as not. We, I had problems with one of em. I put three more into him. Then the others just showed up. Big Ugly hit your man, Rufus with something; looked dark blue." Amelia made another note to follow-up on. He had excellent recollection.

"The Mrs. She was fast. Took two of your lads down. Danced like some kind of Bruce Lee character. I hit her once. One of your lads hit Macnair. That guy must have been born ugly."

He took another sip and continued, "You and that young lass appeared. She didn't deserve to get hurt like that. I hit the little shite that maimed her. I got fired at a couple of times, you all did. They put up a serious fight.

"Then you called cease fire – that was your only mistake. Some of them weren't dead.

"Dan; he'd been carrying that walking stick the whole time; ever since he picked it up from outside Em's blown-up window. I don't blame him for what he did; heard of a lot of lads doing the same during the war.

"That kid, he had a second wand and was cursing you when I finished him. Somebody else hit the Misses. Anyway, Dan, he came back up where I was. He'd worked his anger out. There must have been five, six hundred people and goblins around by then. I saw one lady – Strangest thing; one minute I swore I saw a bug – next second she was standing right there.

"Anyway; we cleaned up the room and we left."

He picked up his glass and drained it. "Excuse me; I have to use the toilet." With some difficulty, he got up and slowly walked down the hallway, leaving the two to their thoughts.

Finally, she broke the silence and asked, "Now what?"

Amos replied, "We take some time and bury our dead. The grass isn't even growing over Cecelia's grave yet. It's too early to make sense of this. He broke the law, doing absolutely the right thing. He saved my life; he saved yours, Michelle's, Lupin's, Tonks' – countless others. Think about it. Take him to dinner next week. Get to know him a bit better. You'll find your answer." He got up and made his way to the men's room.

… - …

While Amelia and Amos were interviewing Ben, Harry, Hermione and Susan were still reading the _Prophet_. When they turned to the seventh page, Susan said, "Look."

_**Dumbledore Reportedly Dead**_

_**Rita Skeeter**_

_Albus Dumbledore's brother Aberforth confirmed receiving an official death notice "a while back." Asked for comment, he replied, "I tossed the notice in the fireplace. One of the guys raised a glass in his honor. That's all I have to say."_

_Gringotts official Stonegrinder confirmed, "A Will reading has been scheduled. Notices are being sent out today."_

Just then, a flock of owls flew in, landing all over. McGonagall, Hagrid, Vector, Flitwick and Sprout received them at the head table. Harry, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Fred and George were among the score of students to receive them. Even Ron got one. Before he could say a word, McGonagall preemptively cast a silencing spell on the teen's unfiltered mouth.

Hermione asked, "What do you suppose he left us?"

Harry frowned and replied, "Probably some sort of book for you and a guilt trip for me. He silently thought, _It's not my job. It's not my responsibility. I'm fifteen. Do I look like Merlin?_

… - …

After the meeting with Amelia and Ben, Amos called Remus Lupin for a meeting. After they had sat down Amos announced, "Remus, I've got another task for your department."

"How can I help you, Minister."

The war created a half dozen or so orphans that we know of. What I'd like you to do is to check with Gringotts and find out who the children are supposed to be placed with. We're not pulling a Dumbledore on my watch. No plopping infants in baskets onto people's front steps in the middle of the night. If there are kids who don't have either another living parent, or a living, named guardian, I want to know as soon as possible. OK?"

Remus nodded.

"If there are, tell Amelia and say that I asked her to assign someone to oversee placement in accordance with the terms or spirit of their parent's Will. No, I take that back. Talk with me first. Overall, I'd like to hear back from you three days from now. OK?"

"You can count on me, Minister."

As the newly promoted department head walked out of his office, Diggory thought, _Yes, I believe that I can._ He felt good as he waited for his next appointment.

… - …

Amelia had taken Ben back to his house, where he had willingly given her a memory of the Malfoy battle, as he called it. After directing Connie and Anna to search Snape's home on Spinner's End, she put the memory in her pensieve and watched. She vacillated between thinking he was the bravest, or most foolish man that she'd ever met.

She watched the part where Riddle spotted Rufus, set up, and cast a spell, hitting him in the back. She stopped the memory and watched that part again, focusing on the wand movements. Due to Ben's diminished hearing, she couldn't catch the words of the spell. She called Rufus into her office.

Ten minutes later, Head Healer, Amanda Crabtree, pronounced, "You have an abnormally low red cell count; much lower than three months ago when you had your annual exam. Please get into the bed and I'll do a full exam."

… - …

Two hours later, the two Investigators were in over their heads, and they both admitted it. Snape's house at Spinner's end was a rat's nest and they really didn't know what they were looking for.

Anna said, "It's not like he's going to leave a book out titled, The Secret Potions and Spells that You've Been Looking for."

"You're right, Sweets. Let's call in Professor John Damocles."

An hour later, the follicly challenged potions master arrived with Amelia. He asked, "What are you looking for?"

Connie admitted, "Honestly, we don't know. Something that would save Rufus and something to replace limbs like the big stinker did with Pettigrew would be brilliant."

Damocles asked, "Why here? Snape never really respected spellwork. If it didn't originate in a cauldron, he never had any great interest."

Amelia remarked, "That's not entirely true. He developed that horrible cutting curse. Harry told me he used to annotate books and write in the margins. Why don't we just box up all of these, bring them to the Ministry and have everybody look at five or so?"

"No!" replied, Damocles and Anna together. She added, "He's got some kind of spell or runes on these to erase them if they go outside the door."

Connie suggested, "Maybe Michelle's people can come in and have a look. There's really only room for about eight people in here anyway."

Soon the little house was full and Amelia was on her way. As every hour went by, Scrimgeour was getting weaker.

… - …

Tuesday 9 November

_The prone man looked at the pointy end of the splintered walking stick with the wild fear of recognition in his eye. He weakly pleaded "No," as he raised his arm in a pathetic defense._

_There was pressure as the pointed edge was pressed between his ribs, with another sensation as it slid in._

Dan's eyes shot open as he felt his heart race. He glanced at the nightstand clock, which read 2:11.

Three nights in a row. He'd had the same nightmare three nights in a row. He lay there in silence; too much on his mind – hoping that he'd find peace, find balance, and most of all, that he'd find his Emma again.

He'd gained a fleeting moment of satisfaction, running that cane through the wounded man; thinking that he'd finally found justice. Whereas he'd slept peacefully every night in October, he now wondered if he'd ever really rest again.

The clock read 2:16.

… -…

That morning, Damocles found something.

_The Wasting spell – may be cast on an object, imbued into a solution and coated on an object, or cast as a spell. Replicates Leukemia – destroys red blood cells. Normally fatal in 1 – 4 months when unprotected skin comes in contact with an affected object. 1 - 4 weeks, when directly cast as a curse._

_Remedy – Wash exposed area with chlorine bleach within 30 seconds of exposure. No other known antidote or counter curse._

The news wasn't what they'd been hoping for. Rufus had been handed a death sentence.

ooo ccc-ooo

The old scribe walked in the door, happy to get out of the cold. McGonagall was in her office when he walked in and greeted him, "Happy New Year, Mr. Crow. What brings you here this morning?"

Crow nodded back, noticing the empty bottles that were in the dustbin and carefully set his report on the desk, along with a packet of the catnip that he knew she liked. In kind, she handed him what appeared to be a fine cigar. He nodded in thanks and lit it as he walked down the hallway. As he took his third puff, there was a loud pop and the cigar exploded in his face.

McGonagall called out, "No more 'gifts" on my floor, Mr. Crow."

As the old scribe wiped the ash off of his face, he noticed that she'd also slipped a silver flask into his pocket when he wasn't looking. Examining it she noticed it was marked Crabby Old Bird on one side and 10564713 – Darkness and Liberty on the back. _Good start to a year, _he thought to himself.

… - …


	18. The Dark Hamster

… - …

**Chapter 18 – The Dark Hamster**

Wednesday 10 November

"Moody, what brings you here?"

"I stopped by to give you these and see when you were going back to work."

Michelle didn't say anything. She subconsciously adjusted her right foot to touch the left and found that it was still missing. Breaking the silence, Moody asked, "What's wrong, lass?"

She spat back, "Aside from the obvious?"

"Aside from the obvious. You were in a fight. A real shitestorm from what I've heard; maybe the worst ever, I don't know. I do know this - at the end of the day, they got planted and you're still alive. You can lie there in that bed for the rest of your life, or you can get up and do your job. The choice is yours.

"Snakeface may be planted this time; I'll never really believe it until I meet him in hell. The bad guys aren't all gone. Now's the time to catch 'em while they're running away. Rookwood's out there, Felsenthal's squirming around someplace. He'll just crawl back into his hole if you let him. Those other skunks who they hired need collecting. There's work to be done, lass. It's mostly up to you."

"I can't."

"You can't what? Amos is out there. That arrogant arsehole of a department manager turned into the best Minister in my lifetime. He took the shackles off Amelia and has actually done some good. I can still hold my own against every one of your lads. What's your excuse?"

He let the silence fill the room.

"You have a confidence issue. You can let it eat you alive, or you can accept the fact that you got tagged, learn from it and move on. I've been tagged five times in sixty some years and the good Lord willing, I'll get up and go to work again tomorrow. If it's my last day on Earth and I at least take some son of a bitch with me, I'll die a happy man.

"Find a prosthetic, ride a broom; better yet, talk to Croaker. He's had his lads staring at Pettigrew's silver hand for the better part of a month. The force needs competent leaders, especially now with Scrimgeour…"

Alarm on her face, she asked, "What happened?"

"Snake face hit him with some kind of withering curse that's destroying his blood. Once it takes hold, it's… There's no known countercurse."

"Has he gone to a muggle hospital?"

"What?"

"And you call me stubborn. If the healers here have given up on him, bring him over to a hospital with a small bag full of muggle currency and see if they can't help him. If he doesn't like that idea, cut him loose from this place and at least get him outside. What? Did someone think that because he has two weeks to live that he's obligated to spend them in a bed, reading?

"Damn it Moody, we're getting out of here."

"That's my lass." He helped her get out of the bed.

… - …

As they waited for their dinner at the Black Dog pub, Amelia asked, "Can I ask you a question?"

Olifson put his glass down and replied, "Sure."

"Why did you do it? Most people would have just locked their doors and stayed inside."

Ben had expected this question. In a matter-of-fact tone he replied, "It was evident that nobody else was going to do anything."

Amelia made to protest. He cut her off, saying, "I'm not blaming you in particular, but ten weeks went by between the time that the picture was published in the _Times_ and Kathryn Parkinson killing that lad. We could have spent a month finding the morons' addresses and handed them over to Scotland Yard. We ended this war with ten good LEOs losing their lives. How many hundreds, or thousands of people would have been killed, magical, or not, if the Queen's military had gotten involved? We'd originally estimated twenty-two plus Big Ugly. Throw in a handful of relatives and escapees and you have thirty-six plus the twenty rentals. We got eighteen and Big Ugly, your lads got thirty-one and six got away. It was already starting to get out of hand. Harry and your lass faced down Snape and a handful of recruits. Then a busload of mercenaries came after you. It would have been a whole shipload next time when he really got going. So to answer your question, because it had to be done right away and I could help do the job."

His words made sense. Like an epidemic, it had been rapidly getting out of hand. Riddle could have rented an almost endless supply of thugs and the DMLE would have been decimated by Christmas. Throw in the psychological effect of Dumbledore's loss and he'd have completely overthrown the Ministry by year-end. She accepted his answer and replied, "OK. Your turn?"

"How'd you end up with the lass?"

"She's my nephew's daughter. My brother was killed just after the war. He was a trainee at St. Mungo's..."

"And an unexploded bomb blew up in '46."

Dumfounded, she inquired, "How did you…?"

"My mum was a healer. Patti Olifson, she worked there."

"Really?"

He caught her eye and chuckled, "Small world."

She sipped her glass of Blue Nun Riesling and said, "To answer your question, her parents were killed just a month before Harry's. My husband was killed in the war with Grindelwald. We were so young."

"Little Susie?"

"Her parent's friend, Becky Abbott was a life saver. They lived in Folkestone. Susie went to primary school there with Hannah."

"Where did you live?"

"Welshpool in Wales; we still do. It's about 50 miles west of Birmingham."

"Portkey?"

"Yes. Susie used the Abbott's address to get registered for school. She was crushed when they moved to the States."

"So what do you do for fun?"

"Sit outside and relax. Bowling occasionally."

Ben's eyes flashed at the memory. "I used to do that. Arthritis put an end to that. Now I sit outside and feed the animals."

She had a thoughtful look on her face and nodded.

When they finished dinner, Ben remarked, "I'd offer to walk you home, but it would be a week."

She looked him in the eye and replied, "I've had a lovely time. Thank you."

"Maybe we can…" They both said at the same time.

Again in unison, "Yes."

There was the first awkward silence of the evening. Finally Ben said, "Goodnight," and pulled the car key from his pocket. A moment later, she disappeared.

… - …

Thursday 11 November

"Dr. G, you're a mess. What happened?"

"I er…"

The little fireball was taking no excuses. "The 8AM appointment is a cleaning. You need to follow-up after the x-rays. Alyson is stacked up with routine cleanings. You need to go home, get a cup of strong coffee, a shower and be back here in 40 minutes. Go. Now."

She was worried. He'd looked the same the morning before. Alyson, the hygienist had to cover for him yesterday morning. She wondered what had happened. She'd call his father-in-law, Dr. Olifson later in the day and see if he had any ideas.

… - …

Croaker's team had spent the last three weeks examining Peter Pettegrew's body. Specifically their interest lay in the hand that Riddle had created. Better still, they had a clear memory of it being cast. They reached the conclusion that someone with sufficient magical strength could replicate the feat.

Then on the morning of Saturday 6 November, the hand disappeared. It wasn't until later in the day that they learned that Voldemort had been killed.

The Unspeakable, codenamed Dad, who had spent as much time as any on the project suggested, "If this is a blend of enchantment and conjuration, the limb would be perceived of as permanent if the castor outlived the subject."

Croaker reflected, "So are you suggesting that someone young learns how to cast this?"

"Yes, but it would take a witch or wizard with an elevated magical strength and a very good eye for detail to have any success with this; let alone permanency. Beyond the initial casting, I doubt that the ongoing drain is significant. I can't envision Riddle giving up much for a follower."

… - …

"Minister, you asked for a report on the orphan list. In short, there are seven recent orphans that we know of that do not have a living named guardian.

Theodore Nott, age 15, six months – was to go to Lucius Malfoy.

Vincent Crabbe, age 15, five months – was to go to Buster Goyle.

Greg Goyle, age 15, five months – was to go to Henry Crabbe.

Pansey Parkinson, age 15, six months – was to go to Conrad Selwyn.

Cho Chang, age 16, six months – was to go to the surviving parent.

Mike Frenchie, age 12 - was to go to Greg Green.

Lisa Green, age 11 – was to go to William Frenchie.

Amos observed, "That's pretty circular. What do you recommend? I have to admit, it's a larger list than I was expecting."

Remus had been expecting this and suggested, "Perhaps Randi Bell would be interested, or perhaps Malfalda Hopkirk could be tasked to find homes for them. Another option, one that might work in conjunction with the other ideas would be to house them at Hogwarts during the summer; at least the older kids. For the older students it would be two summers. In the case of the Aurors' children, I think it would be best if another Auror family took both of them in together."

"What about their resources?"

"Pansy has enough gold to maintain the family seat on the Wizengamot. Theo Nott is on the bubble, whereas Greg Goyle isn't even close. Stated differently, none of them are destitute. The Aurors' children have survivors benefit policies of 100K each. Theo Nott scheduled a Will reading for Monday 20 December."

"Thank you Remus."

"Minister, if I may offer another suggestion?"

"Go ahead."

"It might be better if the four of them are given a new start. Mesa or Salem might be better schools for them; better for Britain. Conrad Parkinson, Buster Goyle and Wolfred Nott were among those pictured burning down Harry Potter's parents' clinic last summer. To my knowledge, nothing has happened or really been said yet at Hogwarts, but they've two and a half years of school remaining and a fresh start might be good for them and honestly good for Britain if they don't claim their seats."

"That makes good sense. The Wizengamot is in as lopsided a position as I could imagine. The Flint seat is gone, as are the Avery and Malfoy seats. Parkinson, Nott and Goyle are minimally vacant for a year and a half. Gilbert Pucey is now without an heir and too old to change it. Harley Wellington will blame the ministry for the rest of his life that his kids listened to Snape, but they don't have the votes to act. I don't want to spend the next three years dragging a less than willing society into the 21st century, only for them to take their seats and spend the next three years trying to dismantle any progress that might get made."

"All the more reason to offer the teens a new start. They might return someday with a fresh attitude, or they might never come back."

"As much as we try, we can't move British culture 150 years in 15 months."

Remus reflected, "No, but the School Governors can move Hogwarts along in that amount of time. In the long run, it accomplishes your goal, with a lot less arm-twisting."

"You're right. We need both. I've got what I need for now. Thanks for your help, Remus."

"My pleasure, Minister."

… - …

As Amelia was walking down the Hallway from Rufus' room in St. Mungo's, she saw Head Healer Amanda Crabtree and asked, "Can we talk for a minute?"

"We've done everything we can to make Rufus comfortable."

"I know. Thank you. Actually, I wanted to ask, did you know Patti Olifson?"

"Certainly. I apprenticed with her."

"I ran across her son recently. He never expressed. Anyway, he has developed arthritis. Would a potion help him? And if it matters, his granddaughter is a witch."

Crabtree replied, "The short answer is yes. If his granddaughter is the same blood type and would be willing to donate a few ounces, he could be all but cured overnight. If she's not the same type or is unwilling to donate, he could be treated on a monthly basis and would definitely show some improvement."

"Could I bring them both in on Saturday late afternoon?"

"That would be fine. I'll see them at half five."

… - …

Friday 12 November

The Book Club, as they called themselves, kept searching. John Damocles, who came in afternoons, due to his teaching commitments, was slightly sickened when he found a recipe for a potion to create one's worst nightmares - a sort of bottled Dementor.

Another time, they came across the rituals needed to create and call Inferi. Connie couldn't decide if the process used to create one or the end result was more sickening.

Anna was ready to join the others in the suggestion of burning the structure and contents to the ground, when they found the spell to conjure moveable limbs.

_Requires focus and immense magical strength. The created object will last the Castor's lifetime._

Connie suggested, "Let's envision a pinky finger and see if it works." The process seemed straightforward enough except none of them could create an object that lasted more than seven seconds.

She remarked, "It's almost like a bleeding sword in the stone contest."

Amelia, Connie and Anna had seen Harry's memory of a successful conjuration, as they called it. Anna suggested, "You should give this to Croaker and Healer Crabtree."

Amelia, who stopped by once a day, nodded and replied, "Maybe make a copy for Poppy too. You never know."

… - …

Saturday 13 November

Amelia walked out of the bank, shaking her head. Dumbledore must have written a hundred people into his Will. Books and knickknacks; most of the stuff looked like something out of a rummage sale. A few of the legacy items were probably appreciated. In addition to the hundred galleons that every invitee received, Ron Weasley looked like he was over the moon to have received the Professor's chess set, but was completely baffled by something called a deluminator. Hermione appreciated his first edition of Hogwarts, a History. On the other hand, from what Susan had told her, the girl had never met a book that she didn't love.

She had been surprised when Harry had been left a sword, once belonging to Godric Gryffindor; even more so when when he received a broken snitch and the Professor's wand. She herself had received a device. The card stated that it could monitor Harry's health and whereabouts. Unfortunately Tonks had tripped and landed on the table, knocking it onto the floor in pieces. She was going to give the young Auror a verbal thrashing, then noticed the crutch on the floor and gently helped her up; giving her an encouraging word.

Several of the items had been addressed to people unable or unwilling to attend. Like Sirius, Snape received a letter from Dumbledore. She wasn't sure she even wanted to know the contents.

A few of the gifts actually made sense. Moody received a foe glass. Minerva received his extensive collection of transfiguration manuscripts – many were originals, written hundreds of years ago by Nicolas Flamel.

Unsurprisingly, Aberforth did not attend. Apparently there was nothing that the old professor had to say that his older brother had an interest in hearing.

… - …

Black debated opening the letter, or simply tossing it into the fireplace. Curiosity got the better of him and he broke open the seal.

_Sirius,_

_First, thank you for reading this. I half expected you to simply burn it._

_I want to reiterate my position regarding the horcruxes. It remains my belief that there are seven horcruxes – Harry being the unconventional seventh. Further, it is my belief that Harry himself is the horcrux; not his scar or an arm – Harry himself._

_Finally it is my belief that as long as any piece exists, Tom Riddle will have the ability to reanimate himself back to full strength._

_Please accept the fact that while there are other theories being bantered about, they are just that – theories._

_My own mentor, Armondo Dippit has expressed a differing opinion. I have destroyed two of Tom's horcruxes. I did not find one to be easier, less powerful, or less corrupt than the other. Therefore, I must conclude that they are all equal and that this version of Tom is no less deadly than in 1980. While I admit, I haven't seen this version of Tom, nor spoken to anyone except Severus, before he was unjustly chased off; I know in my heart that I'm right. Therefor I implore you to find a way to have Harry sacrifice himself to Tom. Only then (after the last horcrux is discovered and destroyed, of course) can Tom be destroyed. I'm certain that Sibyll was correct – one born as the seventh month dies will have the power to defeat him._

_Should Tom's body be destroyed before the last horcrux has been discovered and destroyed and Harry has sacrificed himself, I'm certain that Tom will simply force his way into any of his followers and be as powerful as he ever was._

_Only I can be right, because I've thought about this._

_Only you can carry out this quest. I've written no one else._

_Your servant, in spirit,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

Sirius walked over to Sneerwell's window and asked, "Would you please ask if Lord Ragnok is available to see me for a minute?"

Minutes later, when they had reached the conference room and closed the door, Sirius handed the letter to Ragnok, who carefully read it. Black asked, "What do you think?"

Ragnok admitted, "I did not like Professor Dumbledore. However, he was not an ignorant man. My problem is, once he made up his mind, a hundred learned people could suggest that he was wrong and provide reasoning for their belief and he'd never budge. You have destroyed two horcruxes, I've destroyed dozens. Don't our opinions count equally to his? In your lifetime, I've destroyed either personally, or through direction, a dozen horcruxes that were created during the time of the Pharaohs. I've personally destroyed two that were made during the life of the Aztecs. Yet, there were no Pharaohs walking around, nor Conquistadors. Somehow, people lose the force needed to reanimate or possess another body. They either fade into nothingness or become ghosts.

"Relating to Tom Riddle and yourself, I believe three things, and can make a suggestion. I believe in half-splits; meaning that the first horcrux would contain 50 percent of a person's life force, the second 25 percent and so on. I also believe that the force of a spirit is diminished when a percentage of their soul is destroyed. Further, I believe each time a wandering spirit attempts to force a possession, they are weakened considerably. This man possessed at least one other wizard and went through a reanimation. Since the first possession, in excess of 98 percent of his soul has been destroyed. I have my doubts that he could possess a rodent, let alone a wizard; even one who had taken his Mark.

"With that said, my advice to you is to go and live your life. This task is complete. Should I hear news of a 'Dark Hamster' I give you my word that the entire Goblin Nation will track him down and finish him off. You may wish to visit Professor Croaker from the Department of Mysteries. He has spent as much time investigating horcruxes as Professor Dumbledore, but has far wider resources at his disposal, and an open mind. Go in peace, my friend."

"Thank you, Lord Ragnok. I'll honor your words by following your request to the best of my ability."

… - …

Later that afternoon, Amelia brought the two to St Mungo's and found the Head Healer's office. She said, "Dispensing with titles, this is Amanda Crabtree, Ben Olifson and Hermione Granger. Hermione is sixteen and I'm her magical guardian."

"Hello Ben. I'm pleased to see you again. I apprenticed under your mother and saw you from time to time when you were younger.

Happy memories flashed back to Ben – Miss Crabtree. "I'm happy to meet you again. This is my Granddaughter, Hermione – smart as a whip, this one."

Amanda remarked, "Good afternoon, Hermione. Has Amelia discussed the nature of today's procedure?"

"Yes. Do you use the Coombs or Eldon card tests for blood typing, or is there a magical equivalent?"

"I'll use the magical test today, dear. It tells the type and offers a magical index, which is a factor in this case. The magic within the cells themselves will allow the potion to cure your grandfather of his arthritis over night. He'll have a painful time of it tonight, but in the morning, he'll be cured."

"Cruciatus level pain, or Skele-Gro level pain?"

"Oh, heavens, not nearly as bad as that horrid curse. Much closer to the Skele-Gro discomfort. How in the world would you know of those?"

"My adopted brother, Harry Potter."

"That explains it. Poppy has threatened to order him a brass bed plaque. Did he really kill a 60 foot basilisk?"

Hermione thinned her lips at the thought and nodded grimly. McGonagall would have been proud of the look on her face.

"Back to business. She waved her wand twice over Hermione's head and said O negative. Qi index of 52."

Not being as quick to assess the teen's inquisitiveness as Gringotts, Hermione asked, "What is the range and standard deviation?"

Crabtree replied, "The deviation among Hogwarts attendees is lower than among the magical population as a whole, but among Hogwarts attendees the mean is 50 with a standard deviation of about 10."

She continued, Hogwarts letters are sent to those estimated to have a Qi index of 30 and above."

"But that's not fair. What about someone who tests at 28?"

Amelia was half prepared for this answer. "Hermione, it's not something you can study for. The founders created the book of births. Any magical parent with a child can come in and get their child tested. It's the _then what_ that would bother you. I'd be happy to discuss it with you another time. Right now, your grandfather needs to be tested."

Amanda waved her arm over Ben twice. Just to be certain, she repeated the test. Type O negative, with a Qi index of 22."

"See, not enough to worry about, lass. So what's next?"

"Here's the potion. Hermione, if you're willing, I'll need to draw three ounces of blood from you to provide enough active Qi to magically power the potion."

The teen replied, "I'm willing to donate my blood to help Grandpa." Ben gave her a grateful smile. She probably had no idea how debilitating his arthritis had become.

"Fine. Ben, the potion will take from eight to twelve hours to work. During that time, you'll feel occasional shocks or tingles similar to touching your tongue to the nodes of a nine-volt transistor battery. I'd recommend putting you in a bed for the evening, but you probably won't get much sleep."

"OK, but I have to use the loo first."

Hermione wanted to say something about arbitrary lines in the sand, but a stern look from Amelia squashed that notion. "Hermione, would you like me to take you home, or would you prefer to use your portkey? I'll stay until he goes to sleep and come get you in the morning."

"I'll take my portkey. Goodnight, Grandpa." She gave him a hug.

"Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow."

Ben took the potion. He could feel the tingling sensation almost immediately – fingers, lips, cheeks, and toes. He swore that his hair was tingling too. To him, the sensation was similar to when Novocain began to wear off. He suddenly had feelings that weren't there five minutes earlier.

Amelia asked, "Is everything all right?"

He made eye contact for a long moment, gave a slight nod, was about to say 'fine' when he passed out.

… - …

Dan sat in his back garden, wearing a heavy shirt, sweating despite the chill in the air. He closed his eyes in a futile effort to sleep. He hadn't slept the night since 5 November. Every night he'd wake up gasping as he'd recalled the sound and feel as he plunged and twisted Malfoy's broken cane into his chest.

"You ended the life of a dog that had no honor, Dr. Granger."

"Good evening, Sneerwell. Have a seat."

"The memory is causing you problems. It that the only one?"

Sneerwell studied the man's memories. _ You have a hard time walking distances and I'm willing, but I'm no soldier_. He asked, "The one you sought, Lucius Malfoy. What do you know of him?"

Dan admitted, "Very little, honestly."

"He funded the one that called himself Lord Voldemort. He provided him with the equivalent of five million in pound notes. That money was used to purchase the services of the men who attempted to kill your son, daughter, their friend Susan and Amelia Bones. As of the last time that I'd personally seen him, he'd killed nine innocent people directly. It is difficult to estimate the magnitude of the damage that Lucius Malfoy has done. Had you walked down the stairs and simply ordered ice cream after he'd been shot, he would have been dead before you'd received your cone. What is the shame in your actions?"

"We killed all of those men and a few women. I don't know what it changed."

Sneerwell replied, "Take just one example. Had you and Dr. Olifson not stopped Riddle's followers on 9 October in Hogsmeade, we estimate that they would have killed eighteen students. Instead, two were killed that day. Were the lives of those sixteen students unworthy of your time?

"The day of the attack on your business, his son wanted to rape and torture your wife; forcing you to watch. They had no honor. Dr. Granger, you and Dr. Olifson succeeded in performing a very difficult task; one that your son's Headmaster would have directed your son to take on by himself, possibly aided by your daughter. Instead your son is spending his time being a teen; desperately hoping to mate with Miss Bones."

Dan couldn't help but smile at his all-to-true words.

"It isn't widely known, but we goblins can observe human memories and see into their hearts, but we do not predict the future. Would you have preferred that your son and daughter had born those burdens?"

"No."

"I'm not suggesting that you celebrate their deaths, as do those who've never lifted a finger themselves. Rather you should accept that a horrible job needed to be done, and quietly know that you both were equal to the task."

Dan nodded and asked, "If you know those men were killers, why do you do business with them."

Sneerwell considered the indelicate question for a moment and replied, "It's a fox's nature to kill rabbits, just as it's an owl's nature to kill mice. You do not hate owls because they kill mice. The owl kills to eat. Humans kill over real or imagined grievances, or for sport. For the most part, the goblin Nation is unaffected. In this case, there was profit to be made, and the elimination of the very real risk that the wizard who once called himself Lord Voldemort would have attempted to subdue the goblin nation.

"He would have failed in his effort, but hundreds of goblins and thousands of witches and their young would have been killed."

Dan understood. He wasn't going to turn his life around and vie with Ami for cheeriest person in the clinic anytime soon, but he could live with himself and look Ben in the eye again. A thought struck him and he inquired, "Thank you for your insight, Sneerwell, but why are you here tonight?"

"There was a one million galleon reward for the death of the wizard Voldemort. Hermione's grandfather, Dr. Olifson rightly earned the reward but refused it. I'm suggesting that you accept it on her behalf. Dr. Olifson's mother, Patti Olifson held a seat on the Wizengamot; a seat your daughter Hermione could rightfully claim next September. To do so, she would have to have a net worth of at least a million galleons. It would be a good venue for her to be able to exercise her sense of fairness." He handed Dan a bank draft and added, "Please accept this on her behalf."

Dan asked, "Why are you offering this?"

Sneerwell smirked and admitted, "It's not our gold that we're giving you. The Ministry made the offer in 1980 and deposited the gold in an escrow account in our bank. The goblin nation has enjoyed free use of the gold for the last fifteen years. It was earned in accordance to the original terms and the Nation profited for years. We're not required to announce who the gold was given to, nor will we. Lord Ragnok believes that Miss Granger will work to better the relations between our peoples. We benefit and it costs us nothing. With your permission, I'll open a trust account in her name and deposit this draft."

Dan nodded and replied, "Thank you, for everything."

… - …

Sunday 14 November

"How do you feel, Dr. Olifson?"

"Like I'm twenty years younger, Miss Crabtree. Will this last?"

"In your case, it's a temporary fix that will last five years or so. You could easily repeat the treatment if you choose to. You're free to leave."

"OK. Thank you. Where do I go pay?"

"Gringotts took care of the bill, but thank you for asking. Enjoy your day, Dr. Olifson. Please stop back if there are any problems. Will you need transportation home?"

"No. Thanks. I think I'll go visit Florean Fortescue. Thanks again."

… - …

Monday 15 November

"How's your man, Rufus?" asked Ben as they waited for the food to arrive.

"Not good," admitted Amelia. He's got a week to live – two tops."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I wish… I think…"

"I know. Every time we've ever lost an officer, we beat ourselves up, second guessing how a situation could have been controlled differently. I'm not saying it's futile, because we've learned how to avoid making the same mistake over and over."

Ben replied, "There's also something known as the fortunes of war. I wouldn't call it luck, but there are a series of random events in every conflict. Between practice and other, we fired 100 rounds with one dud. Why this one? Who knows? Does he have family?"

Amelia reflected on the good times she'd spent with Cecelia and replied, "No. His wife was killed that night we showed up in Emma's kitchen."

"Any children or grandchildren?"

"No. It was just the two of them."

"Where is he now, St. Mungo's?"

"No. He wanted to be home. Connie stops by every morning and checks on him."

"Smart man. I wouldn't want to pass in a hospital either. Did you work together long?"

"The four of us have worked together about fifty years. Most of the times were good; a few moments of absolute terror mixed in, but mostly happy memories."

"Will you see him again soon?"

She nodded.

"Would you give him something from me? Give him this. I tried to save him, I really did." He handed her the bullet with the indent in the primer that hadn't fired.

Swallowing down a lump in her throat, she nodded and replied, "I'd be honored to. Thank you."

Ben finished his drink and asked, "So switching subjects; how's your lass?"

Amelia's eyes lit up – no parent/grandparent can resist talking about their kids. "Wonderful. They're really looking forward to Christmas break. She wrote, asking about making cookies together."

Ben allowed a faraway look to slip out for a moment. It would be a very different holiday with Emma in the nursing home.

Amelia caught the look and guessed the basis. She asked, "Do you suppose that Harry, Hermione, Dan and yourself could come for Christmas this year? It would be splendid if you could all come."

Grateful for the invitation, he replied, "I'd like that. I expect they would too."

"Maybe we can make a long weekend of it? I'll send the invitations later tonight."

"Maybe we could go bowling?"

"That would be fun. I'd like that. Do you think a practice game would be in order beforehand?"

Ben smiled and replied, "I'd like that. There are lanes not too far from my home; good food too."

"That's an excellent idea. I think we should do that."

… - …

"Professor Croaker, may I introduce you to Lord Sirius Black and Mr. Harry Potter?"

"Lord Black, the pleasure is mine. Harry, it's good to see you again."

Amelia announced. "I invited Professor Croaker here to discuss horcruxes. All three of you have extraordinary experience with them.

Alejandro began, "I have to admit, most of my experience is academic. I understand that both of you have hands-on experience. What I wanted to talk with you about today is Exertable Will, related to possession of living beings. Harry you were at Hogwarts when Quirrell was there. What happened at the end?"

Harry thought for a moment and replied, "Professor Dumbledore had borrowed the philosopher stone that Nicolas Flamel had made. Looking back, I suppose he did it to attract Riddle. Anyway somehow Riddle possessed Quirrell. He wasn't very old, 25 or 30 at the most. I'd heard that he'd taught Muggle Studies the year before. Anyway, Professor Dumbledore had set up these, well, I look at it now and have to say, lame obstacles. He had a chess set, a troll, a set of keys, devil's snare; stuff like that. I could probably just take my broom, fly past most of the stuff and _Reducto_ the locked door in less than a minute. The tricky part was at the end. He'd put the Mirror of Erised down there and had hidden the stone in it. Riddle hadn't figured it out when I reached that room. The mirror put the stone in my pocket.

"Quirrellmort tried to get it from me and kind of burned or dried up when I grabbed him. Anyway, a big black cloud kind of thing came out of Quirrell and zoomed off."

That was the part that Croaker was looking for. He asked, "Could I possibly see a memory of that part?"

"Sure." Croaker extracted the memory, placed it in the dish and taped the necessary rune. The cloud was easily larger than Harry. After the Unspeakable retrieved the memory and placed it back into a crystal vial, Amelia took a similar vial out of her robe pocket, put it in the dish and carefully tapped six of the runes. The memory picked up at a specific spot and unlike every other one that Harry had seen, was without sound. As the image played, Riddle was being killed in Diagon Alley and a football size cloud came out and passed into Draco. Seconds later, a tennis ball size cloud left him.

Croaker looked like he was going to ask something, but Amelia stated, "I gave an oath not to identify the owner of the memory."

Sirius asked, "If I might ask, what time would that memory have been from?"

Amelia thought for a moment and answered, "About 8:05."

Black replied, "A few minutes after that, Ragnok and I destroyed one of his horcruxes. We don't know for sure how many he'd made but Dumbledore thought that there might be one additional one, over and above the one that Harry used to carry.

"Ragnok believes the Horcrux fractions and Exertable Will theories. In short, he believes that 98.5 percent of Riddle's soul has been destroyed, leaving him with fractions of a percent of Exertable Will – perhaps enough to possess a rodent and become the Dark Hamster.

"He also believes that the level of Exertable Will diminishes with time; perhaps over the natural lifespan of the witch or wizard."

Croaker smirked and replied, "The Dark Hamster? I'll keep my eyes open. Actually, I completely agree with his theories."

… - …

Friday 19 November

Searching Malfoy Manor was nothing like searching Spinner's End had been. Snape's residence barely measured 1,000 square feet in size. Malfoy Manor was 22,000 square feet plus the grounds and several out buildings. In addition to the Hitwizard squad and help from Damocles, Connie enlisted Moody and his magical eye.

The search took six days. The north wing of the estate had obviously been recently occupied. It hadn't been much of a stretch to conclude that Riddle had been staying there for the last six months. Anna felt unclean every time she picked up a quill, parchment, book or glass that the Dark Lord might have used.

Moody found a secret storage room under Malfoy's study loaded with illegal potions, poisons and a small fortune in gold. Connie observed, "He certainly didn't put all of his earnings in Gringotts."

The real find, however, was his payoff book of bribes, loans, and donations; along with the requested action.

Moody observed, "Lucius must have met Fudge through Abraxas and groomed him from the day that he joined on at the Ministry."

Anna said, "Look at this listing – 3 November 1981: Archie Amslowe, Cornelius Fudge 50,000 each – Imprison Black for Draco. That was the day that Sirius Black was captured and thrown into Azkaban without a trial."

Connie added, "It must have been planned as a long-term theft of the Black line. Lucius must have known that Regulus had been killed and Sirius would inherit. With no son of his own, Draco would have stood in line to collect."

"Ironic then," remarked Anna. "Sirius will end up with all of this when we've released it."

"Forty-two percent, anyway, after the goblins and Basil Debit get through with fees, taxes and fines. That idea of calling any marked Death Eater a terrorist, thus subject to seizure was an inspired bit of governance."

"Between that and Malfoy's little law that turned the Wizengamot into the millionaires' club, most of the stinkers who were members lost their seats for their kids."

"With the changes that they'll run in between now and when the teens turn seventeen, Amos and Ogden will have the opportunity to institute a real shift in our world," speculated Connie.

"Maybe our little world will be able to catch up. It'll be interesting to see who is named headmaster – Minerva _more of the same,_ or somebody that is actually looking to the future."

Connie laughed and replied, "Well, they're not just going to pick somebody off the street, like Florean Fortescue, are they? I'd tie my wagon to John Damocles, if I had a vote. He's the only one of the bunch who's had any teaching experience outside of the castle walls. He must know how backwards, isolated, and far behind they are."

Anna suggested, "Have a word with Amelia then. She's on the board. I think he'd be an inspired pick if he landed the job."

"I'll do that tomorrow morning. Brilliant idea there, sweets."

"So what do you suppose Lord Black will do with this place? Basil and the goblins will probably seize all of the liquid assets, leaving Black with a broke estate and no gold to run it. After getting sickles on the galleon when they liquidated the Parkinson manor, young Pansy truly lost her heritage. She was left with 1,000,000 in grossly overvalued furnishings stored in a warehouse and about 700,000 galleons. Basically, it was a short sale and fetched less than a third of its appraised value. Out of an estate valued at ten million, she'll be lucky to actually fetch two."

Connie nodded and remarked, "She at least received something for it. Those stinkers started a war, and got their arses handed to 'em. Their kids were left to pick up their tab. I can't make myself feel sorry for them." With a sneaky look on her face, she asked, "So just how often do you go and see Basil Debit in finance anyway? Is he still sweet on you?"

Anna's red-face was all the answer that the older investigator needed.

… - …

That evening, Amelia made the portkey and asked, "Are you ready?"

Shockingly frail, compared to just a week ago, Rufus nodded. The four of them held the rope and with effort, he gave the traditional activation phrase, "Saddle up."

And they were there – the Little Hangleton graveyard.

Amelia and Connie helped him along as Moody pointed out the way in the gathering darkness. After looking around for a few minutes, he found the stone marked Tom Riddle Jr. Connie couldn't resist and remarked, "You could have just asked. We knew where it was. Men, never willing to ask directions."

"I found it, didn't I?"

Amelia glanced at her friend, gave a slight smile but said nothing. It had been over a decade since the four of them had been out on a mission together. Together they helped the old Auror along. He had one final task.

Moody summoned the remains of Tom Riddle and Tom Riddle Jr and directed them into a pile by Captain Scrimgeour. When he was satisfied that he'd gotten everything, he nodded at his longtime colleague. Rufus raised his shaking wand and vanished the remains into the ether.

Connie nodded at him and said, "The big stinker will never come back that way. Do you want to go home now, or should we go up the hill?"

Winded from his last spell, Rufus rasped, "Hill. Finish it."

Connie and Amelia helped him up the hill as Moody hobbled up as best he could. When they reached the wooden manor with the faded paint, the three of them cast several _Incendios _each, as Scrimgeour looked on in grim satisfaction. He recalled the dozens of times in the '70s when the Death Eaters had trapped entire families inside their own homes and torched them.

The old wooden home caught fire easily. Within a minute, it was fully engulfed. In the cellar, an old snake that had taken refuge from the cold awoke and found itself trapped. It died as the house collapsed on itself. Outside, they watched the flickering light in grim satisfaction for a few minutes.

Amelia looked at her friend and asked, "Would you like to go home now?"

Rufus nodded and croaked, "Home."

… - …

Saturday 20 November

Connie made a floo call the next morning and said, "Healer Crabtree contacted me just now. Rufus passed on during the night. Anna's on vacation. I thought you could come to his house with me and have a look."

Amelia replied, "I'll meet you there."

Rufus' body was where they'd helped him to last night. He wanted to sit in his comfortable recliner. He was facing a framed picture of his wife, Cecelia. As Connie took his wand out of his hand, she also found the dud round that Amelia had given him a few days back. Connie remarked, "You should keep this."

The Investigator looked at her old friend and said, "Don't say anything. We figured out the how and the why weeks ago. The who didn't seem very important in the grand scheme of things. You obviously found the shooters and made things right with those people. Not another word about it. It's forgotten. Let's go get a cuppa and you can tell me about Susie's latest date with Harry."

… - …

Dan and Ben finished their lunch at the Black Dog pub and got out of Dan's car. They were just opening the door to the house when a car pulled up and a woman got out. Dan turned to see who it was.

Crawley PD Inspector Nichole said, "Dr. Granger, Dr. Olifson, may I come in?"

ooo ccc ooo

The old scribe heard him before he even set foot in her office. "Another product placement, Mr. Crow. You assured me after the last forty-three incidents that this wouldn't happen again."

Crow placed a blue glass bottle on her desk along with his report and waited a moment. Reminding himself that life as a shih tzu left much to be desired; especially since the snow was deeper than the height of his legs. He carefully walked out of the room, never taking his eyes off of her as she picked up the bottle of Blue Nun.

He was headed towards a place where it would be warm enough to ride for a week and didn't want to ride on the plane in an animal crate. The card under his report had Silver Dollar on the front and 10767188 – Poppa John on the back. It was one of the old scribe's favorites.

Don't forget to leave a note. The give me something to show to my wife, explaining why I'm never downstairs.

… - …


	19. Potter's Points

… - …

**Chapter 19 - Potter's Points**

Saturday 20 November

Amelia delighted in getting a letter from Harry. He certainly didn't write as often as Susie, but they were always interesting. She carefully opened the letter and began reading.

_Dear Ms. Bones,_

_Susan said that we were invited over for the Christmas holiday. Do you suppose it would be all right if our Grandpa, Ben Olifson could be invited too? Hermione told me that he spends Christmas with us sometimes and we wouldn't want him to be alone for the holidays._

Amelia smiled as she again realized what a kind hearted young man he was.

_Also, I received a letter from Sneerwell at Gringotts. He wrote that they offered to purchase the basilisk remains for 1,050,000 galleons, provide that they are allowed to take some photos of me and it in the Chamber of Secrets. I think it would be kind of cool to do that, but they would have rights to the photos. He also said that they'd pay me two galleons each, if I'd sign copies of the photos._

_I don't want to be another Lockhart, but it seems like a pretty good deal. He stated that signing the photos wouldn't take more than a day._

_What do you think?_

_Also, I mentioned that I'd asked Susan to be my girlfriend when I wrote before. Last summer, Sneerwell sold me these portkey watches. I gave one each to Mum, Dan and Hermione. We used them when those idiots tried to attack your house. They look nice and they're reusable._

_Anyway, do you think it would be all right if I bought Susan one for Christmas? Hermione told me that I should ask you first._

_Love from,_

_Harry_

Amelia handed the letter to Connie to read and remarked, "What do you suppose the goblins are planning to do with sixty feet of snake bones and a box of signed photos?

Connie replied, "It's probably more like a pallet full of photos, and hopefully his arm won't fall off when he signs them. I'd guess that they're planning on putting up an exhibit at the next Quidditch World Cup, charge a lot of people five galleons each to see it and another five galleons for the photo. They'll make their money back pretty quick. Nobody loses. What do you think?"

"I think the money sounds right, and it's for something that he actually did. Dumbledore never went after the writers of those ridiculous books when he was just a toddler. Sirius wrote me and said it would have been worth up to ten million two and a half years ago, but Dumbledore just let it rot away. The bones sold as potion ingredients wouldn't fetch anywhere near what Sneerwell offered, so I'm in favor of it."

"You write him back, while I pen a quick note to Susie."

… - …

"Good afternoon, Inspector. How may we help you?"

I apologize for dropping in without calling first. I haven't checked back with you in the last month."

Ben asked, "Have you found any new leads?"

"Unfortunately, no." Turning to Dan she asked, "How is your wife?"

"Dr. Krebbs, the Neurosurgeon believes she's making gradual improvement. We have hope that she'll continue to improve."

Inspector Nichole felt bad that she didn't have any better news. She asked, "When your wife wakes up, will you contact me?"

Dan replied. "We'd be very happy to. Thanks for stopping."

After she left, Ben suggested, "You'd better get rid of that video tape and the gun solvent. The bottle was still sitting on the kitchen table."

Dan cringed at the oversight and replied, "Good idea."

… - …

Alejandro started the meeting with an unexpected question. "Have you two gotten your story straight regarding the demise of Tom Riddle?"

Amelia was shocked at his words but said nothing. Amos asked, "What do you mean?"

"Tom Riddle began taking measures to prevent his demise when he was your niece's age, Amelia. By the time he'd finished at Hogwarts, he'd all but guaranteed that he couldn't be killed off. He'd created soul anchors – six intentional and one extra by mistake when he attacked baby Harry as a toddler.

"The mechanics aren't critical, but it might be best described that he was wounded to various degrees when the anchors were destroyed. Harry potter destroyed one when he was twelve."

Amos asked, "That great snake?"

"Close enough. Albus destroyed one sometime over the summer, the day he lost his hand."

With those words, Amelia felt a twinge of guilt publically deriding the man.

"Sirius Black destroyed one in September and another the day Riddle was shot."

"That's a secret," declared Amos.

"This entire discussion is a secret," agreed Croaker. "Harry Potter getting knocked off of his broom destroyed another sliver. You and Rufus finished him off when you burned down the Riddle Mansion."

"Who knows about the soul anchors?" asked Amelia.

"Ragnok, Sirius, Harry, most likely his adopted sister, your niece and the three of us; a manageable number," suggested Croaker. He handed Amelia a small sack containing the fired slugs that he'd collected and asked, "So what's your story going to be?"

"Rufus," suggested Amos. He has no family left that people could take revenge on. He was there and he's not in a position for people to ask awkward questions. That's the simplest explanation."

Croaker asked, "The shooter?"

"Had their own motivation," admitted Amelia. "Do you want these back?"

He shook his head and replied, "I don't collect souvenirs."

Amos counted and vanished them. Croaker declared, "It's settled then. You'll make the announcement?"

Amos replied, "I can live with that."

… - …

That evening Harry took the note from Hedwig and read it.

_Harry,_

_Thanks for the note. Hearing from you always makes my day. Connie and I both think that the offer from the goblins is both fair and something that you should say yes to. You might consider setting aside a portion of the signing proceeds for the other victims of the basilisk – Ginny Weasley, Colin Creevey, Justin Finch-Fletchly and Hermione. If you're asking for an opinion, even splits would be more than generous. The bone money is yours. Please do not give it away. You risked your life to help Miss Ginny Weasley, and deserve the reward and recognition._

_On a different subject, your Grandpa Ben and Dan agreed to spend the Christmas holidays at Bone Manor. Dan suggested three days and two nights with a visit on Boxing Day to go see Emma._

_Your gift idea for Susan is brilliant. I'm certain that she'll both enjoy and appreciate it._

_We'll meet you at the train station in London._

_Love,_

_Amelia_

… - …

"How was your day?"

"Good. Two lads came by today and called me a cool dude with rad cones. It sounded better than being the old geezer who lives in the house down the lane. How about you?"

"I met with Amos and the head of the Unspeakables. They're an odd bunch. Anyway, he'd gone and collected all of the copper pieces."

"Slugs."

"Yes. All of the copper slugs and Amos vanished them. We then held a press conference where the demise of Tom Riddle was credited to Rufus."

Ben thought about her words for a minute as they ate in comfortable silence. He then asked, "Unspeakable. That seems a bit like He-who-must-not-be-named. Cut from the same cloth?"

Knocked back by the thought, she nearly refuted him on principle, but after a minute she considered the similarities and observed, "In their own way, they both could be considered very dangerous men – well, all three of you, I suppose."

"Riddle's dead and I'm retired. Why? Is he the sort to make people disappear?"

"More the sort to make problems disappear. Fortunately, he's very loyal to the ministry."

"The ministry – are you saying to the institution, or the person? Didn't I read that Rookwood character was an Unspeakable. Is there an entire flock of them or only one or two at a time?"

"Interesting questions – they're a small group; half a dozen or so at a time. They're chartered with researching mysteries and arriving at solutions to problems. Yes, Augustus Rookwood had been an Unspeakable for twenty years before being sent to Azkaban. I suppose he's about fifty now. There's been no word or sighting of him since the prison breakout. Hopefully we'll never hear from him again. I suppose people either are, or should be a bit – frightened probably isn't the right word, intimidated or at least respectful of them."

Ben nodded and she continued. "I'd like to believe that their loyalty is towards the institution, but they're only human and everyone is swayed by politics to one way or another.

"Back to point, as far as anyone will know, Rufus was responsible for Riddle's demise. You two were never involved and your equipment goes back where you found it. I'll never say a word to Dan and you two will have to find a way to live with your deeds."

"I can do that."

"Yes, I believe you can, the teens will never hear about this first from me. That would be the start of some awkward conversations; especially if their friendship turns into more."

Ben replied, "I, for one, hope it does. Speaking of living with what they've done, how are they getting on since that day?"

"Based on their letters to Connie and I from Harry and Susie, I'd say they're clingier than usual. Hermione and the Creevey boy have paired up a bit. Susie says they have quite a bit in common. They're all looking forward to being away from the castle for a while. How's Dan doing?"

"He was fine until the very end. He should have just tossed that walking stick in a waste bin or burned it. I suppose he felt that he needed his pound of flesh, but it didn't suit him. What he really needs is for Emma to wake up."

She thought about his words for a moment and asked, ""Will he tell her?"

"I don't think he knows."

They finished their meal in silence; each reflecting on what was said. Finally Ben asked, "How are those two lasses who got hurt that day?"

"The younger one, Nymphadora Tonks had her pelvis and hip bones shattered. She has a magical ability to change her appearance. That precludes the usual method of treatment, which would be to vanish the affected bones, take a potion and simply regrow them."

Ben replied, "The nonmagical treatment would be to open her up and either pin the bones back together, or put in a metal replacement. What happens in her case?"

"She can use her magic to hold the bones in place, but they'll have to knit back together normally."

"That's about three months to start with – a year in total – maybe less, given her age. I expect that magical folk might heal faster due to their magic."

Amelia nodded. In spite of her clumsiness, Tonks held a very warm spot in her heart. She smiled at the thought.

"And the other lass?"

The smile disappeared. She replied, "The Hitwizard unit relies on fast reflexes and superior agility. With the loss of her left leg…"

"I thought she was sliced open well below the knee. Why doesn't she just go out and get a first class prosthetic?"

"In a word, pride."

"Ahhh, that explains it."

"Ironically, Tom Riddle…"

"Big Ugly."

Laughing at the description, "Yes, Big Ugly developed an experimental… an experimental treatment that conjures a permanent replacement."

"That sounds promising, though I don't suppose he documented the procedure and published it in a medical journal?"

"No, but Croaker's team studied it for a month and believe they know how to replicate it."

"That does sound promising."

"The only problem is it would take a witch or wizard with immense magical strength to cast a permanent replacement. We don't know of anyone strong enough to cast the spell."

"Oh. Whoever could work that out could charge a fair bit for that service. There were thousands of lads who could have used that after the war. They ended up with hooks, or strap-on wooden legs instead. Moveable, you say?"

"By the reports, yes. It had allowed for a normal range of motion, strength and dexterity – perfect except for the color."

"Sounds brilliant. I hope she finds the person who could cast that for her."

"I do too."

… - …

"Molly, you saw the previews; that clearly was the Titanic. I saw the name on the ship. It had to be that time-turner again."

"Yes, Arthur." She clearly wasn't listening. She'd seen a shop with a sign _We buy scrap gold._ She replied, "You go order us a lunch at the king restaurant. I'll be just a few minutes."

She walked into the shop and took out the five gold lumps that she'd been keeping in her bag. She'd been able to make the galleons, but hadn't been able to make a fire hit enough to smelt away the non-gold metal that was used in the galleons. She asked, "How much could I get for these?"

The metal smith replied, "I'll smelt them down. Can you come back in an hour?"

"That would be perfect."

… - …

"Two number threes."

Arthur watched as the couple in front of him ordered. They paid with a ten pound note and received change, so he knew to only take one of the fifty pound notes out of his pocket. He watched as they were given a slip of paper and moved to the side. He'd originally sat at one of the booths for five minutes before he realized that there were no servers or table menus.

"Yes sir, can I help you?"

"Two number threes, please." Arthur held thee fifty pound note in his hand as the counter person keyed in his order. He handed her the note and was given his change back, along with his ticket.

Molly walked in after he had received his food and found her husband by the beverage dispenser looking ever so pleased with himself. He noticed her and said, "Molly, look at this." He put the cup under the left-most dispenser and pushed the button. Root beer came out. He then put it under the next one and orange came out. He repeated it until his cup was full of the different beverages – root beer, orange, Pepsi, diet, ice tea and coffee. "What do you think, Molly wobbles?"

She replied, "Pick any one of them and I'll try it. I'll try a different one next time." She looked at his cup and tried to hide the cringe on her face.

… - …

"The five ingots that you brought in yielded 2.5 ounces of gold. We pay 250 pounds per ounce. That's 625 pounds minus the 10 pounds for smelting. Here's 615 pounds, ma'am."

"Thank you." She collected her money and walked out the door to meet her husband. She'd never want for pocket money again.

… - …

Monday 22 November

"Augusta, it's a once in a lifetime opportunity, shaped as a problem."

"Minister…"

"Amos. The Board uses first names only."

"Fine. Amos looked at the roster of the board - Kathryn Parkinson, Peter Avery, Scott Scaboir, Andromeda Tonks, Chang Xi, Michelle Edgecombe, Lincoln Boot, Ludo Bagman, Florean Fortescue, Amelia Bones, you and I. The first five are dead. Michelle's in Azkaban. You're not eligible as Minister. We don't even have a quorum and we need to appoint a headmaster."

"True, but the greater need is to drag the school and curriculum into the 21st century. Not all of the board positions need to be filled at once. Some of the seats really go with positions, some are at-large appointments. Remus Lupin as head of the Goblin Relations office and Molly Weasley will do for now. Long term, my suggestion would be to find some promising muggleborns and not necessarily fill out to twelve in the next three months. Look ahead. I believe that you were first appointed when Frank was a second year.

"Regarding the headmaster role, you can look ahead or look backwards. Your goal should not be to replace Albus. Our society has been stuck in the Victorian or Edwardian age, while the rest of the world has progressed. The children entering school next term will have to function in the William era. The curriculum that is being taught needs to be first among equals, in terms of the board's priorities. Once you've decided on that, the right candidate for the position of Headmaster should become apparent. The heads should be able to run the school on momentum for a few months.

"Binns needs to move on, Divination is worthless to all but a small handful of students, Muggle Studies needs to be taught by a muggleborn under the age of fifty and include actual outings into the outside world. Wizarding society should be added for the other students.

"My recommendation, no my personal opinion; I don't want you to see this as direction would be to look beyond Minerva. Find someone who can think beyond the four walls of the castle. Whether you find that person in the form of John Damocles, or a healer, or someone from another school is up to the board."

Madam Longbottom asked, "What do you mean, beyond the school? The charter states that the headmaster must have finished Hogwarts."

"True, but Minerva's been teaching transfiguration since about 1950. I'd like to believe that someone was sufficiently inspired by her in the last 45 years that they would have gone into education as a career. They currently could be at Salem, in Utah or in Mesa. The same would be true with charms, let alone history.

"Augusta, let me ask you a question. The board is partially in place to represent the views of the students or parents. If a third of the students are classed as muggleborn, though in fact, they're probably either children of rape victims or the grand or great grandchildren of squibs, who is representing their views?

"My point is. The Death Eaters and sympathizers have been killed off, or imprisoned. The board shouldn't be made up of twelve purebloods. Take your time filling the rest of the positions."

"Thank you, Amos. Your viewpoints and suggestions have been most enlightening. On a different subject, are you going to run for election?"

"Yes, but depending on who runs against me, I may or may not vote for myself. The only person who I've heard express any interest is Barnabas Cuffe."

"When is the election?"

"It's set for Tuesday 5 January."

"Well, either way, good luck."

"Thank you."

… - …

Damocles read Harry's assignment.

_**Wolfbane Potion Cost Reduction**_

_Method: Obtain the silver oxide solution from a photo processing plant._

_Rationale: Most plants just dump the solution or attempt to reclaim some of the silver and would be willing to sell it for 5 – 10 percent of what it would cost at an apothecary. The resulting potion would be equivalent in use and cost several sickles, rather than several galleons per gobletful dose._

John thought through the suggestion for several minutes, agreed with the lad's idea and marked it O+. There had only been four out of forty papers that actually had workable ideas. Harry's had easily been the best. The idea was clever. It didn't add complexity to a potion that was already difficult enough to brew and put the potion within the financial reach of all but the most destitute patient. Honestly, he'd been surprised that there had been four. Critical thinking, as a skill, seemed to be in short supply at Hogwarts.

… - …

Wednesday 24 November

"Good morning. The Board of Governors meeting shall begin. I'd like the existing board to affirm two new members, Molly Weasley and Remus Lupin."

Everyone present - Amelia, Donna Boot, Ludo, Amos, Augusta, and Florean Fortescue voted yes.

"Welcome Molly and Remus."

They sat down and Augusta continued. "The second item of business is to accept Amos' resignation, effective immediately. By charter, he will be ineligible to remain a member if elected Minister of Magic."

All the members voted to accept his resignation, effective at the end of the year.

She continued, "The next item I'd like to discuss is the role of the Board of Governors. Everyone in this room was either educated by, or was a student of Hogwarts when Professor Dumbledore was Headmaster. During the nearly fifty years that the professor was headmaster, the board ceded much of its authority to him.

"During those same years, Hogwarts grew stagnant. No new courses were offered; two were dropped. Enrollment dropped and the school's standing in the international community dropped. We sat back and watched as a nearly unbroken chain of unqualified or controversial hiring choices were made. No slight intended, Professor Lupin."

"None taken, Madam Chairman. Please continue."

"In 1979, the Board recommended that Divination be dropped as a regular elective. Over fifteen years later, students are still muddling through it, bowing to Professor Dumbledore's guidance that maintaining the course and keeping Sibyll Trelawney at the castle was for '_the greater good_.'"

Remus winced at the memory of the odd woman who'd never met a bottle of sherry that she didn't like.

"Over 400 written complaints were launched in fourteen years against Severus Snape; primarily about his abhorrent teaching methods. All of them were dismissed by Professor Dumbledore; usually with the words, _I trust Severus Snape."_

Amelia had also heard complaints against the man, for other unsavory activities – all dismissed out of hand, by Dumbledore's meddling.

Augusta continued, "In 1947, Professor Cuthbert Binns died on the job and with it, any progress or real interest in students learning about history. The curriculum of muggle studies refers to the construction of the Titanic, but not the demise.

"What I propose for discussion is that we pair up into teams of two and physically go visit the magical schools at Beauxbatons, Salem and Newfoundland. Spend two or three days there and find out how they're structured, what courses and electives are offered, any extra electives or offerings of services that they might provide, hiring methodologies, endowments and the role of the governing board."

Molly asked, "But what about the headmaster position? Surely it must be filled as soon as possible."

"Deciding what we want the school to be will likely offer guidance as to who would be the best candidate for headmaster. Molly and Remus – please make arrangements to visit Salem. Donna and Ludo – please look at Newfoundland. Florean, you and I will go visit Beauxbatons. We'll meet back in two weeks and discuss improvements."

… - …

Friday 26 November

Hermione, Harry and Susan scanned the newspaper together as they finished their breakfast.

_**New Board of School Governor Appointees Named**_

_**Cheryl Whiteheart**_

_Board of School Govenor Chair Augusta Longbottom announced the appointment of two apointees – Molly Weasley and Remus Lupin._

_Weasley 49, who currently has four children attending Hogwarts was quoted saying, "All students, need to be challenged by the staff to do their best." Her other goals include ensuring that a Hogwarts education is affordable to all._

_Lupin 37, newly appointed Goblin Liasion Head brings recent teaching experience to the group. He was quoted as saying that he "is honored to be appointed and will work towards preparing our students for the future."_

_The board is expected to name a new headmaster in the next few months._

"What do you think? asked Harry.

"Hermione replied, "I think appointing Professor Lupin is an inspired choice. Aside from the obvious issue, he's spent a lot of time in the nonmagical world. I hope he stands up for his ideas and doesn't allow himself to be bullied. His teaching experience should give him perspective as to where changes need to be made. What do you think, Sue?"

"Auntie mentioned that the two appointees, offset by Minister Diggory's resignation, gives the board just enough members to search for and select a new headmaster. They don't always fill vacancies immediately. Chang was only appointed this last August, filling the spot Lucius Malfoy was forced to vacate after our second year ended."

… - …

Saturday 27 November

The hardware store man was delighted. "I'd had these cans of cosmoline on the shelf for years. I'm glad to get rid of them, and find someone who has a use for them. If I may be so bold, what are you planning on storing?"

"An old Triumph Bonneville."

The hardware man nodded and replied, "That brings back memories of my rebellious years. That'll be sixty quid."

Ben handed him two fifties. The man handed him his change and said, "Good luck then."

Ben nodded and replied, "You never know. Maybe my grandson will have an interest someday." He drove back to his garage, ignoring the cold rain. He carefully applied the preservative to the inside and outside of the crate. After he had finished that, he field stripped the weapons and applied cosmoline to each of the pieces, then reassembled both the rifle and the pistol. Two hours later, he nailed the crate back together. With Dan's help, they put three layers of heavy plastic wrap around the wooden crate.

"I'll carry it out," offered Dan.

"At least it stopped raining."

Using the ropes, they lowered the box back into the hole and Dan began refilling the dirt. He remarked, "It's easier refilling the hole than it was digging in the first place."

"I'd thought the same thing in '47," agreed Ben.

"Think it'll ever get dug up again?

"I hope you'll never need to. Here, toss a bit of grass seed in the dirt. It'll grow in the spring."

They went inside to eat. Dan was reading the paper listing the fines imposed on the various Death Eaters. Dan commented, "The_ Prophet_ called this the great redistribution of wizarding wealth. It claimed that the twenty-seven morons had held more than half of the wizarding gold in Britain."

"Makes sense. That's probably how they bought their way out of prison in the first place."

"It showed the Lestranges and Malfoys as examples. Between them there were estates worth 18 million galleons – nearly 90 million pounds."

"OK."

"The government seized half, then the goblins took a slice as a fee. The government also took a slice as an inheritance tax and they gave the goblins a slice of the seized half as a kickback. Of the 18 million, Sirius Black ended up with just over 7 million. They pretty much did the same with all the rest, with the beneficiaries netting 10 – 40 percent."

"That's a pretty serious haircut," observed Ben.

Dan continued, "The Blacks, Potters and Ogdens are the only wizarding families with estates in excess of 50 million quid each. The irony there is Harry is listed as Black's heir." He didn't sound overly enthused.

Ben observed, "That works for me. We stopped a war before it started. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, but Emma's still…"

"She'll wake up."

"I know. So what's next?"

"I have a dinner date and a job interview to look forward to. Florean said I could come in a shift or two a week if I wanted. Living on the outskirts of South Hampton gets a little lonely in the winter. I think I'd like it. How about you?"

"Ami wants me to come in another half day a week."

"It beats sitting home, watching the tube. I'd think we'd both be happy to have some place to go."

"Makes sense. Are we still on for Thursday for dinner?"

"I wouldn't miss it. Your turn to buy next."

"Thanks Ben, for everything."

"You too."

… - …

Saturday 4 December

The day finally arrived for Harry's photo session in the Chamber of Secrets. He was decidedly nervous when the delegation from Gringotts arrived with forty goblins, plus Sneerwell and another goblin who seemed to be in charge. Mr. Croaker, Amelia and Remus were there representing the Ministry. Poppy, McGonagall and John Damocles represented the school. Sirius invited himself.

Remus spoke. "Today makes a special occasion. It has been many years since members of the Nation have been invited to Hogwarts castle – too many years. Wranglers, Engineers, Head Teller Sneerwell and Lord Ragnok; on behalf of the Ministry, the students and the staff at Hogwarts, we say, welcome back.

"We are here today to mark a special occasion. Two and a half years ago, a twelve year old boy and his thirteen year old friend went on a rescue mission to save a young girl who had been abducted by Tom Riddle; who had taken on the self-assessed title of Lord Voldemort. The two boys found and entered the fabled Chamber of Secrets. Shortly after, a cave-in forced one of the boys to go on alone. Alone he battled and defeated not only a sixty-foot basilisk that had been terrorizing the school, but also a shade of Lord Voldemort himself."

Harry glanced at Ron while Remus was speaking. Regardless of what had transpired afterwards, the two of them had performed an incredibly brave, incredibly foolhardy feat that day.

Harry led them to the girls' bathroom. He looked at the pipe and muttered "Open." A moment later the sink slid back, revealing a large hole.

Sneerwell remarked, "It was not widely known, but your grandfather, Charles Potter also had the gift of being able to speak with snakes. I personally observed it years ago when he was young and I was a cart attendant."

Harry immediately felt relieved at his words, having wondered how he had been able to open the chamber after his quidditch accident. He always had worried that he'd acquired that little trait from Snake-face himself.

The twenty engineers scrambled into the hole and slid down the slide in delight. Twenty minutes later, Ironrod, the Head Engineer came back and proclaimed, "Lord Ragnok, the tunnel is crude, but safe to enter."

Croaker, who was standing by Harry and Colin Creevey said, "Lead on."

They walked down what seemed like an endless set of stairs. As they reached the shed snakeskin, Sneerwell briefly conferred with Ragnok, who nodded. Sneerwell walked over to Harry and said, "For the inclusion of the shed skin, we'll double the offer."

Harry asked, "Including the photos?"

The orange-haired goblin gave a toothy grin, nodded and replied, "It is a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Potter. Yes, including the photographs." Harry shook his hand.

The tunnel was illuminated with a warm green light that illuminated the way. Harry asked, "How did you do that? It was dark the other times I've been here."

Ironrod replied, "The illumination runes were already in place. We just activated them."

The air seemed fresher than he remembered. He asked, "Ventilation rune?"

The muscular goblin replied, "Correct."

Harry was amazed that the fallen rock had completely been cleared away, ground up and used as a gravel walkway. He remarked, "Nice work." Ironrod nodded in appreciation of the recognition.

Finally they got to the second door. Harry observed, "You might want to find the ventilation rune as soon as possible. It's pretty stinky in there." Ironrod nodded. Harry called "Open," and the door quickly opened.

McGonagall, who'd unfortunately been too near the door, immediately retched from the acrid stench. Fortunately, Ironrod found the rune set and tapped the appropriate symbols. Within a few minutes, he deemed the area fit to enter.

Hermione, who'd apparently been spending time with Ami, called "Holy crap!" at the sight of the beast.

Sneerwell remarked, "Indeed, it is a shame that Professor Dumbledore was so negligent with your possession, Mr. Potter. His malfeasance did indeed cost you a fortune."

Remus and Sirius stood together with grim looks on their faces. Sirius quietly muttered, "Andi estimated that it could have been sold for ten million galleons when it was fresh."

Ragnok, who was standing close enough to hear made eye contact with Black and nodded in agreement.

McGonagall looked at the remains of the monster and muttered, "A thousand points to Gryffindor, Mr. Potter."

While they were taking the photos, the engineers found the back entrance. When Colin was done, Ironrod briefly conferred with Ragnok and they decided that the existence of the back-entrance was best kept a secret. After conferring with the others, Ragnok announced. "The wranglers are ready to wrap the carcass and move it up the stairs. Perhaps you'd like to go first. If you would, activate the stairway, Ironrod?"

The Head Engineer tapped the rune-set on the wall and the stairs started to move upwards like the ones to the headmaster's office. Damocles and McGonagall went first, then Ragnok, followed by the other witches and wizards. Damocles cleared the hallway as the remains were brought out of the chamber and out of the castle.

Fred and George looked on with utter amazement as they each had one arm on Ginny and the other on Ron. Actually, Fred had one arm on Ron. George had his wand pressed against the lanky teen's back, lest he open his mouth and say something foolish yet again.

Finally, the wranglers had managed to get the covered carcass remains out past the front door. Ironrod nodded once more at Harry, activated the portkey, and they were gone.

Sneerwell remarked, "We will expect you at Gringotts Monday December 20 at nine AM, in the Silver room, Mr. Potter. You may wish to bring your newly acquired wand along with you."

Harry nodded and replied, "I'll be there. Thank you for allowing Colin to take the photographs."

Sneerwell replied, "You're welcome, but it was only good business. Good day, Mr. Potter."

As they walked back to the common room to put away the sword and wash up, Colin came up to Harry after they'd left and said, "Thanks Harry. They'd offered me two sickles each for every photo that gets sold."

"That's good, Colin. I expect that they'll sell quite a few."

Hermione smiled at her brother and silently mouthed, "Thank you." Harry winked at her and they walked to the Great Hall to get lunch.

… - …

Monday 6 December

"Sirius, you need to get out and do something."

"I'm fine Mooney. I'll find something."

"You need to find something. You've done a great job fixing this place up, but you need to get out."

"You're right, I don't even have Dumbledore or the bird club to rip into."

"I've got an idea."

… - …

Wednesday 8 December

"Hey, George, look at this."

_Messers Mooney and Padfoot invite Messers Fred and George to a meeting for the purpose of discussing opening a prank shop. Said meeting to be held at #12 Grimmauld Place, London, Monday 20 December at 1PM._

_Messers Fred and George are requested to bring their best ideas and samples of their work._

_Refreshments to be provided._

"What do you think, brother mine?"

"They have experience and hopefully piles of capital."

"We have great ideas and ambition. They may want to be silent or active partners."

"It sounds."

"Perfect."

"Well said."

"Besides, we can't afford to keep arranging escorted outings for Ronnikins without a steady source of income."

"I'll write them back."

ooo ccc ooo

The old scribe gave an involuntary shiver at the mere thought of the cold. His stiff fingers ached from the weather and holding that old quill. He'd misplaced his trusty bic pen and wished that he'd been able to use it. He reached McGonagall's office and he immediately stood by the warm fireplace.

"Welcome back, Mr. Crow. Allow me to pour you a beverage." He gladly accepted the glass; both for the gesture and also because it was his signature beverage that he'd given her the week before. Frankly, he was surprised that there was any left. She raised her own glass. The amber liquid felt good as he sipped it, and he took the latest report out of the bag. "I thought you were going to warmer parts, Mr. Crow. What happened?"

The old scribe held out a ticket and she could see that the dates were still in the future. He'd have to endure a bit more of the exceptionally bitter weather. She looked at the dates again and remarked, there's still more to be told in this tales; four or five reports, by my guess. You'll be back for them?"

The brochures of distillery tours, showgirls, bike rentals and something called SHOT Show must have fallen out of his bag, as she noticed that he'd left. She also saw a card reading _10595005 - Marriage Law_ was on the floor. She also noticed a scribble that read _1275 – comes into play?_ on the bottom of his report. Perhaps he'd heeded her warning after all.

… - …


	20. A Dish Best Served Ice Cold

**Chapter 20 – A Dish Best Served Ice Cold**

Wednesday 8 December

Augusta called the meeting together, pleased that everyone had returned. "It had always been my belief that Beauxbatons and Hogwarts were schools with similar characteristics. For sake of comparison, our 1995-96 enrollment was 302 students. Hogwarts is structured with a non-teaching headmaster. There are four heads of houses; traditionally teaching core subjects. There are seven other instructors, theoretically getting us to a student staff ration of 27-1. If you factor in the reality that six of the seven are classified as less than full time and Binns is a ghost, you'd have a ratio closer to 49-1. To get anywhere near the other school ratios, you'd need to include, Poppy, Filch and Mrs. Norris.

"Beauxbatons, located in Nice France, had enrollment this term of just under 700 students. To be considered to teach, an applicant must have at least four NEWTs, including at least an E in the subject that they would teach. After two years, a Masters is required and they are considered tenured.

"Regarding topics, there is no divination. Wizarding culture is required for first generation witches and wizards. Non-magical culture is required for anyone not taking Wizarding Culture. Both last three years. Everyone takes World History afterwards. They also offer Healing as one elective and Enchantment for those with a Qi index above fifty."

Amelia observed, "Refreshing. That's traditionally been a taboo discussion at Hogwarts."

Augusta replied, "True, because Abraxas Malfoy didn't want the world to know that his son Lucius was a thirty-four."

"Oh, my."

"So in summary, because of a generation of fighting Tom Riddle, they're more than twice as large as us. They have hiring standards, insist that their students know a rounded culture and offer a wide range of electives."

Remus asked, "What was their teacher-student ratio?"

"In terms of actual instructors, 20-1. Regarding tuition, everyone was charged the same – both legacies and newbloods. There was an endowment for hardship cases. That's a significant departure from Hogwarts. Our stated tuition is 1,500 galleons per year per pupil – comparable to theirs. However, our legacy students, Those whose father and mother attended get 1/3 off. Second students in a family get 1/3 off, in addition to the hardship cases. So by example Hermione Granger is charged 1,500 galleons while her adopted brother Harry Potter pays 1,000 because of the legacy clause – effectively a tax on newbloods."

"True," reflected Donna Boot, "But on a per pupil basis, Beauxbatons pays an average of 25 percent more; affording them the lower class size."

"Better instructors too," observed Ludo. "Binns was free, Hagrid was already on staff, the part-time teachers were paid half-time, while our core topics teachers have far too many students."

"We'll come back to the fees. Who's next?"

Augusta replied, "Ludo, could you tell us about Newfoundland?"

"Yes. They're smaller than us – just over 200 students. They use the same teaching requirements as Beauxbatons. There are two significant differences. They have an entrance requirement significantly higher than ours; a minimum Qi index of 50. Students with an index lower than that are encouraged to go to a school in northern Michigan.

"The fee structure is fairly straightforward – 2,100 galleons for boarding students, 1,300 galleons for day students. The largest difference is in their course offerings – world history for seven years, mathematics is required for five. Electives include healing and marine life. There's no divination. Donna, did I miss anything?"

"Just a bit. There was no formal endowment program. There was electricity in the buildings. Televisions were fairly common. Every student had their own dormitory room. There were no houses, but a common room was designated for the younger students and another for the upperclassmen."

"Ludo added, "They did offer a wider range of intermural sports – football, quadpot and quidditch."

Donna concluded, "Sometimes a thousand years of history works against us. Look at how many problems have originated from our house system. The founders did it to select the students who they personally wanted to teach. We're left with a legacy that continues to create deadly life-long rivalries."

Amelia asked, "So what take-aways would you suggest?"

Donna observed, "Clearly the belief that electricity can't work in a magical environment needs to be revised. The classrooms and hallways were so much brighter than our own. Obviously the castle is our main facility, but there is no reason that an out-building couldn't be constructed to house muggle studies – better yet, a modern house. I liked the idea of their common rooms. Perhaps the building could be used for both purposes."

She continued, "On the subject of the index, it's something a person is born with. There's no evidence that it changes with age. North America is large enough, is open enough, and has a large enough population to make having an elite school somewhat practical.

"Finally, the subject of tuition needs to be looked at. To a large extent, the incremental cost of adding one single student is almost zero, as so many of the costs are fixed, but there is no basis of rationalizing that Student A should pay more than Student B because of cost."

Everyone in the room made a point of not looking at Molly. Her youngest son's eating habits were nearly legendary.

She concluded, saying, "It's really a matter of deciding what student-staff ratio we want to pay for, and then making certain that the staff is being utilized effectively. Since it's fairly evident that her contract will not be renewed next year, it's not really fair that a dedicated divination instructor be on staff with 14 third, 8 fourth, 6 fifth, 2 sixth, and 2 seventh years; effectively working one day a week and drawing the same salary as the runes instructor who teaches three days a week. Both are classed as half time."

"What about school enrollment?" asked Florean.

Augusta stated, "There was something of a baby boom immediately after Voldemort's defeat, beginning in 1992. We have 60 first years and only 16 sixth years. Still, the fact remains, he killed off so many young people in the 1970s. The Hogwarts school population of my youth was easily twice as large; easily comparable to Beauxbatons. We've been so intent on killing ourselves off, and as a rule, practicing a low birthrate, probably due to inbreeding. We've marginalized the newborn witches and wizards to the point where many of them have chosen to migrate to the States. Our biggest post-Hogwarts employer is the Ministry, which rarely hires anyone except purebloods. We've simply provided no reasons for the best and brightest of the newborns to stay."

Slightly embarrassed over her own rant, she said, "Perhaps it's time to hear from Molly and Remus."

Molly glanced at Remus, who began, "There is much truth in your words, Augusta. We encountered a dozen children, whose parents were in school with me in the 1970s."

Gathering his thoughts, he continued, "There is no direct comparison between Salem and Hogwarts. There are currently 2,200 students enrolled at the school. Of interest on the staff side, there are 80 full-time instructors, giving them a student-staff ratio of 27.5. They all have masteries in their subjects. There is a peer review. As a rule, the bottom 10 percent are not offered a contract for the next year. There is no tenure. 2/3 of the Hogwarts-aged students board, 1/3 are day students.

"They also offer adult education, summer sessions, two-year masteries programs and a primary school for ages 5-10. Class offerings include technology, mathematics, composition, world history, healing and enchanting. Of note, tuition is 50 percent higher than our list for want we call years 1-7. Of the 2,200 students, 200 are in Masters programs, 1200 are in what we'd call first through seventh years, 700 are in the primary school and 100 are in non-mastery adult education." He sat down.

Augusta said, "Thank you both. Thank you all. The directives in no specific order of priority include;

1) Raise and standardize tuition rates.

2) Offer relevant education that provides the likelihood of employment upon finishing.

3) Incorporate technology into the curriculums as appropriate.

4) Drop divination.

5) Add enchanting and healing as tutored topics in the autumn term.

6) Poll the population for possible interest in adult education.

7) Hire staff that can competently instruct several courses.

"When we meet next, we'll discuss implementing these and finding a headmaster who will follow these directives and lead our students into the 21st century."

… - …

Friday 17 December

"Harry, look at this."

_**New Headmaster Selected**_

_**Cheryl Whiteheart**_

_Board of Governors Chair Augusta Longbottom announced today that Interim Hogwarts Professor John Damocles was offered and had accepted the position of Hogwarts Headmaster._

_Damocles, 42 finished Hogwarts in 1970 – Hufflefpuff. He has Masteries in both Potions and Healing from Salem Academy._

_Longbottom also stated that the Board agreed on seven new directives for the 1996-1997 term. They include standardizing tuition rates, ensuring that the students finishing at Hogwarts are qualified to enter the workforce, incorporating technology into curriculums as appropriate, adding tutoring opportunities for several new topics, and staffing appropriately. Longbottom also said that Divination would be eliminated as a regular option._

"I wonder what subjects will be added?" asked Hermione.

Susan replied, "I don't know; Auntie's been so busy lately. She hasn't written as much. We can ask her over Christmas. What's so funny, Harry?"

"Trelawney – I bet she didn't see that one coming." The girls groaned.

Susan asked, "Have you finished all your homework?"

"Yes. The potions assignment was pretty easy. I finished the rune set for warding. Flitwick's assignment to learn two healing charms and their uses was pretty easy. I had enough with enough of those with Madam Pomfrey. Sirius gave me a few suggested topics for McGonagall's five feet on the basics of the Animagus transformation essay. I thought we could buy a couple of history books when we go to Diagon Alley if Hermione wouldn't mind stopping in a bookstore."

"Brat," joked his favorite sister. "Grandpa Ben wrote and asked if we all wanted to come out and visit one day. He suggested that we go to Gringotts and ask Sneerwell to adjust our watches."

"He replied, "Good idea. Did you finish your shopping?"

"No," she admitted. "Sue?"

"No. I'm still deciding if this one's been naughty or nice."

Luna walked by and observed, "Sometimes being naughty _is_ nice. Right Neville?"

Rather than turn red, he observed, "You have a point. Let's go see how the little cherrytonias are doing."

Susan looked at the two teens walking away, smiled and observed, "Those two are meant for each other. It's time for potions. Let's go."

… - …

Monday 20 December

At nine, the photo squad assembled just outside of Gringotts and walked in together. Sneerwell met them and directed the teens into the Silver room. "Good morning, Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, Mr. Creevey, Mr. Finch, Mr. Weasley. Good morning, Mr. Potter. I'd like you to meet Apprentice Teller Gumeye. He'll be assisting you today."

Harry looked around the large conference room. The walls were lined with stacked high with cardboard boxes. He asked, "How many are there?"

Sneerwell glanced at Gumeye, who looked at the stacks, made his calculations and stated, "There are 100 cartons, each containing 500 photographs; arriving at 50,000 photos." Harry was certain that his hand would fall off before a tenth of the photos had been signed.

Sneerwell asked, "Did you bring the wand I suggested, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes sir."

"Please sign ten of the photos. Here is a marker you can use." He handed him a box of Sharpie markers. "You might vary the message slightly – Harry Potter, All the best, Harry Potter, Harry Potter 1995, Greetings from Harry Potter, and Wishing you the best, Harry Potter will do nicely."

Harry neatly wrote out the phrases that Sneerwell had suggested. Justin noticed that the photos were different and suggested, "You should do a second set and sign them at the top of the page so they're varied up a bit. You could probably sell them as a set."

Harry signed some of them with the black marker, others with the blue, green and red ones. They now had five different photos, each signed four different ways.

Sneerwell asked, "Are you familiar with the duplication charm, Mr. Potter?

Unable to help herself, Hermione blurted, "It's _Duplicatus_." She wrote on a piece of paper, tapped the written paper, and then the blank, which instantly became a copy of the original."

"Very good, Miss. Granger. Please try it, Mr. Potter." He did and the copy looked perfect. He placed an original and a stack of 100 of the pictures and suggested, "Now try it again." Harry tapped the original and the stack. Sneerwell carefully examined the copies and concluded that the first 75 were perfect. He made a stack of 50 and suggested, Miss Granger, Miss Weasley and Mr. Finch will make stacks of about 50." Justin gave a slight frown at the aberration of his name, but knew that it was to be.

Ron asked, "What do I do?"

Sneerwell replied, "You'll open the cartons and keep stack in front of these three. Gumeye and perhaps some of his friends will collect the signed stacks and rebox them. It shouldn't take too long."

Stack, _"Duplicatus,"_ tap, tap, unstack, rebox.

Stack, _"Duplicatus,"_ tap, tap, unstack, rebox.

Stack, _"Duplicatus," _tap, tap, unstack, rebox.

Within a minute, Gumeye had brought in a handful of his friends to help. They brought in refreshments as they worked. Granted, Ron ate and drank three fourths of them, but it wasn't a bad day. The lanky ginger was certain that he'd been given the hardest job, but surprisingly, didn't complain much. Justin kept up with the girls, even with one hand.

Harry walked back and forth between the stackers and it was a fairly efficient operation. By six PM the last carton had been resealed.

Sneerwell called Harry off to the side and said, "Director Bones mentioned your wish to share the proceeds with your friends." Harry looked around, counted ten workers there other than himself, including the goblins and replied, "Ten ways."

Sneerwell replied, "That would be inappropriate. Perhaps one share each for you and your friends and one for Gumeye to split with his friends. Seven shares in total." Harry nodded and the old goblin replied, "I'll be back shortly." He came back with several of the helpers and set the seven cases on the table in front of Harry.

Ron asked, "Which is which?"

Harry replied, "They're all the same. Pick one."

Sneerwell suggested, "You might wish to open them carefully, or simply deposit them into your vaults." Ron, Justin, and Ginny each took theirs and left to go home.

When they had Harry, handed the young goblin the extra case and said, "This is for you and your helpers, Gumeye. Thank you."

The young goblin was profoundly grateful, nodded and replied, "May your gold always flow, Mr. Potter." It was more gold than the lot of them had made since they'd started working.

"Harry."

"Gumeye."

They smiled at each other and shook hands. Sneerwell smiled at both of them. He'd just created a new generation of positive wizard/goblin relations.

Hermione asked, "How much is in each case?"

The orange haired goblin replied, "33,333 galleons, Ms. Granger. Mr. Creevey also received a fee of 5,882 galleons for taking the photographs."

She recognized his intent and simply kissed her brother's cheek. Colin looked like he was going to faint, kiss Harry, or both. She suggested, Colin, why don't you sit down and finish your beverage."

Wisely, he complied.

Harry asked, "What are you going to do with the photos?"

Sneerwell replied, "Eventually sell them at the world cup next summer. We're also going to exhibit the basilisk at the different Gringotts branches this winter. We might need to come back and ask for more photos in a few months. Thank you all. May your gold never run low."

… - …

Wednesday 22 December

Amos invited Arthur into his office and poured them both a small drink. He invited him to sit, then offered the red-haired man the glass and remarked, "It's good to see you again. It has been a very busy six weeks. Tell me, what did you learn?"

Arthur replied, "Loads, Minister. Absolutely loads. Just by example, the technology of the Americans in the Apollo 13 documentary was beyond imagination. Molly and I did some additional research. Did you know that they sent one of their automobiles to the moon and it's still there? Outstanding! Their technology and capabilities are beyond anything that I'd heard possible. None of ours go longer than three hours."

Amos nodded for him to continue.

"One afternoon, Molly and I went to a shop. Well, I can't even call it a shop; there were floors and floors of everything that you could imagine. There were dresses, plates, tea, furniture, camping equipment and the like – all run by some chap named Harrod. Outstanding."

Visibly relaxed, Amos poked a little deeper. "And James Bond?"

"I had no idea that the muggles were up to all of those things. He must be the Queen's favorite agent. Just astonishing."

A bit confused by Weasley's answer, Amos inquired, "And the Titanic?"

Arthur was visibly excited. "What an amazing ship. All made of iron. Did you know that the American chap, Dr. Ballard drove a little submarine under the water two miles deep into the ocean somewhere off Newfoundland to find it?"

Amos admitted, "It is pretty amazing."

"Seriously, we need to investigate if we could borrow one of those devices."

Amos was a bit confused and asked, "Which device?"

"Well the time-turners, of course."

Now Amos was confused. He replied, "But the lads in the Department of Mysteries have several. I've seen one, but I've never used it."

"But that's the point. Ron told me that ours go back a maximum of three hours. Theirs go back centuries. Didn't you see the documentary on William Wallace? I've felt like I met the man. And to walk on the Titanic; it was almost a hundred years ago. I'm surprised that Croaker never said anything about it. Maybe it was something that Fudge had funded. Who knows?"

"So you've seen the Titanic, the actual Titanic?"

"Why yes, very impressive."

"And you've seen William Wallace?"

"Of course. He's quite the motivational speaker."

Amos refilled his own glass; quite full this time. "What did Molly think?"

"She wasn't as interested, to tell you the truth. She's become quite interested in something called currency exchange. She's been reading everything that she can get her hands on. So have you or Amelia met him?"

"Who?"

"Commander Bond, of course. He seems like a dashing chap; the ladies seemed quite interested."

Amos drained his glass in three gulps and replied, "Stay on it, Arthur. We'll talk again in a month." _Maybe Black or Dirk could represent them at the ICW on the 30__th__. Weasley clearly couldn't distinguish fact from fiction_. He added, "Oh Arthur?"

"Yes Minister?"

"As a topic, you may want to research filmmaking."

"I'd be happy to, Minister. Thank you again."

After the other man had left, Diggory rubbed the bridge of his nose. Weasley was such a hard-working, affable man, but he was as gullible as a five year-old. Hopefully another month or so would open his eyes and he'd have a much better resource. He had his doubts.

… - …

Thursday 23 December

Amelia found the three teens in the game room and asked, "If you're not too busy, can we visit for a while? I promised to continue the Qi discussion with you. You recall that it is the magical generation index. There are measured averages and the mean level among wizards and witches is 50; meaning half of the magical population is above and half below."

The teens nodded and Hermione somehow managed to not interrupt her with any questions.

The older witch continued, "The standard deviation is 10, meaning that two thirds of the magicals will be measured between 40 and 60. So what happens if you go out one more standard deviation?"

Hermione thought for a moment and replied, "You have a student body with widely varying magical abilities; no, widely varying power or potential. Learning magic still requires effort."

"Agreed. A student with a Qi index of 30 has virtually no chance of attaining a NEWT certification in any of the wand-based classes – transfiguration, defense, charms, or arithmancy. Go out a few more points and they lack the ability to properly power a rune or complete potions requiring any infusion of magic, such as a stasis. A witch or wizard with an index of 25 could barely pass the second-year wanded classes."

Susie observed, "Setting the bar any lower simply sets them up to fail."

"Exactly. Hermione, if you brought your grandfather in here and worked with him for a day or two, you could get him to send up red sparks. By New Years, he might be able to cast _Lumos_, or possibly levitate a coin by mid-January. I'm not saying that's not an amazing accomplishment in of itself, but it's not a career. Didn't he help more people being Dr. Olifson, than Argus Filtch ever did being a bitter man working in a castle full of magical children who surpass his ability before their twelfth birthday?"

She nodded in resignation, recalling Harry's finding the Kwikspell brochure on Filtch's desk in second year. It was a hard truth for her to accept.

Harry asked, "How do you get measured for this?"

Amelia replied, "Initially, Mr. Ollivander does it, though he only makes a report on children who are 30 and under."

Susie asked, "Auntie, can you measure Harry? His magic changed since the Quidditch accident."

Amelia looked at Harry, who shrugged. She waved her wand and noticed the reading. Without saying anything, she tested him a second time. "86 and 87," she announced. "It's not uncommon that there would be a difference of a point between measurements."

"Oh my," remarked Hermione, stunned at the implication. While she might be MENSA level in intelligence, her brother was easily the same with respect to magical potential.

… - …

Friday 24 December

"Professor Flitwick, I need to go to Hogsmeade for the day to lock up some inventory from my parents' store."

"Certainly, Miss Chang. Would you like me to come and help?"

"No sir, but thank you for the offer. I can manage. I'll be back by dinnertime. I might need to go again tomorrow too. I'll let you know at dinner. Thank you."

She walked outside. She expanded her broom and a few minutes later, landed in front to the Three Broomsticks where she walked in and greeted Rosmerta, who said, "It's good to see you again, Cho. I'm so very sorry about your parents."

"Thank you. I'll be in the store on and off this week, tidying up. I'll probably stop by for a late lunch."

"OK dear."

Cho opened the door to the store, closed it again, disillusioned herself and walked back outside. Five minutes later, she was back in the castle. Still disillusioned, she made her way to the passageway outside the Slytherin Common Room and waited. Ten minutes, two stunners, and two transfigurations later, Pansy Parkinson and Theo Nott were guinea pigs stuffed into a bag. Five minutes later she was back outside, over the lake in the section where she'd heard that the grindylows would be found. She dropped the weighted bag and saw the water boil as the water creature fought for the unexpected meal.

She made a show of being seen off and on during the day, even inviting Rosmerta to the store and making a sale of a strand of black pearls. "They look wonderful on you, Madam Rosmerta."

"They do." agreed Odd, the ice cream man who'd seen the shop open and stopped up to say hello."

"We won't keep you, dear. If there's anything you need, just ask."

"Thank you both. You've always been very good to my parents. I think I'll be back tomorrow."

After they left, she put the more expensive counter inventory back into the safe; taking a few galleons for herself. She went back to the Three Broomsticks and ordered lunch; sitting at a table by the warm fireplace. Rosmerta brought over her lunch and turned to walk back into the kitchen. When the door had closed behind her, Cho gave a smooth toss and two broken wands landed into the fireplace. The wands caught fire and gave a few sparks as the slender pieces of wood turned into ash.

"Toss another log onto the fire if you would, dear. There's a chill in the air today."

She did, grinding the burned wood pieces into fine ash. She paid her bill and went out when she saw Hagrid walking outside the pub. She greeted him, "Hello Hagrid."

"Er, hello Miss Chang. Er, how are you today?"

"Fine, thank you. Professor Flitwick gave me permission to tidy up in my parents' store this weekend. Are you going back to the castle? I was hoping we could walk back together."

"Er, certainly. I'd be happy to, especially since it's snowing a bit." Half an hour later they reached the door and Cho said, "Thanks for walking with me today. It was nice talking about dragons with you."

"You too. It's half five. I'd best get to the library for a minute before dinner. Bye Hagrid." She walked up to the library and greeted Madam Pince and sat down at one of the tables looking at an arithmancy book.

"It's dinner time, dear."

"OK. Can we walk to the Great Hall together?" asked Cho.

"Of course, Miss Chang. Let's go."

… - …

Two at a time, they walked up to the bed and made some gesture of greeting to the woman lying there. Ben and Amelia walked in first. Amelia touched her forehead, giving it a gentle brush. Ben smoothed the covers, like he had done when his beloved daughter was six. Both were hoping that today would be the day. They walked out allowing room for Harry and Susie to come in.

Harry gave his mum a careful hug, avoiding the tubes which seemed to be connected everywhere. Susan leaned down and whispered, "Your son is a great kisser. I love you, Dr. Emma."

Harry said, "It's Christmas Eve, Mum. The snow is falling and we're on our way to church service. I love you." Reluctantly, they walked out, allowing room for Hermione and Dan.

He held back for a moment, allowing Hermione to hug her mum. A tear fell from her and splashed on Emma's cheek. She whispered, "Please come home mum; Harry and Dad need you so much; we all do. Please hurry."

Finally Dan hugged his beautiful wife and whispered, "It's safe to come home now. Happy Christmas, love, I'll be back soon."

They walked out and somehow piled into Dan's BMW. Amelia sat in the front and the other four managed in the back. Ben noticed that Harry and Susan were holding hands, while Hermione rolled her eyes in amusement.

… - …

An hour later, Susan said, "I liked the Christmas songs. Soon she and Hermione were talking about this or that. Ben nodded off for a few minutes while Dan drove and Amelia looked out the window at the brightly light houses as they drove by. One of the lines that he'd heard on the radio kept playing in Harry's mind – _war is over, if you want it. _He liked the idea.

They decided to leave the car at the Granger house and take the portkeys back. They walked into the house, then out the back and were gone in an instant. Smidgen the elf had already helped by bringing the gifts back to Amelia's home in Welshpool. Sneerwell had adjusted their portkey watches by adding Welshpool as a destination, with Amelia's permission. An instant later, they were in Amelia's back garden.

As they were going inside, Ben looked at the edge of the property and saw a stag standing next to a doe. They seemed to stare at each other for a long moment before ambling back into the woods. Inside, it was obvious that Smidgen had been hard at work. Pleasant smells wafted from the kitchen and the home was well decorated for the season.

… - …

The thirty or so students and staff were treated to a wonderful Christmas Dinner – turkey, goose, roast beef, potatoes, pies and cookies were among the offerings.

"How was your day, Miss Chang?"

"Good. I made a good start at securing what needed to be locked up and even made a sale."

Flitwick laughed at that and replied, "Excellent. One of the quality pieces?"

"Yes. A nine millimeter strand of select black pearls. They looked very good on Madam Rosmerta." She leaned over and in a soft voice added, "She even paid list."

The quarter goblin laughed at that, and replied, "Excellent. Good for you."

At the other end of the table, Greg and Vince were enjoying their meal and eating everything within reach as if it were their last supper. If anyone noticed that Pansy and Theo weren't at the table, no one said anything.

After dinner Cho asked, "Professor, could you show me that volume expanding charm again? I was having trouble with it."

"Certainly. It goes like this. If you draw the swish out at the end, you can get more volume."

Cho tried it twenty times.

"Excellent."

"Thank you, Professor. You've been very helpful."

"You're more than welcome, Miss Chang. Will you be a Hogsmeade again tomorrow?"

"Yes. I believe that I'll be able to wrap things up. I'll see you for dinner, or you could stop over and I'll buy you lunch."

"I'll do that."

… - …

Saturday 25 December

The next morning, Cho made a show of being seen at breakfast, pointing out a few news items in the paper to one of the seventh year Gryffindors, who was also staying. No one thought anything of it when she announced that she'd be gone for the day, moments after Greg and Vince had gotten up from the table. She disillusioned herself once she got outside the Great Hall and carefully followed them back into the Slytherin Common room.. She followed the same routine as the day before. When she was finished, she carefully packed up the four trunks, and smiled when she saw the note from Theo that he was leaving school. She placed it on his pillow before shrinking the four trunks and carrying them out with her. She placed them a dozen rows back in the room of lost things.

Ten minutes later, she was back in Hogsmeade, greeting several of the shopkeepers. She practiced the space expanding charm twenty times to clear her wand and carefully packed the remaining inventory into the store safe.

As her father had owned the building, there were very few monthly bills which would need to be paid before she finished school. She also considered having the store be open on Saturdays. She took one of the nicer pieces to wear and half of the gold coins which were in the safe.

As she was finishing, the bell on the door tinkled, announcing Flitwick's arrival. He looked around and observed, "It looks like you've been busy."

"Yes. I finished putting things away and looked through the invoices to see which ones needed to be paid in the next week or two. I'll need to go to Gringotts tomorrow. Hopefully, I'll get some of these set up to be automatically paid, though my father always insisted on looking at each invoice individually."

"That's probably a better idea," suggested Flitwick. "You could easily go on Saturdays."

"You're right, Professor. I'll do that."

… - …

Gumeye's replacement, Longfinger had a dilemma. The book of deaths listed three wizards and a witch who had died just over a day apart with no listing of people to notify. That normally meant that they had died_ intestate_ – without having a written and filed Will.

Fortunately, Gumeye came to visit his friend from time to time and had just stopped by. Longfinger asked, "What should I do? There are no names to notify, yet all four of the humans have vaults."

Gumeye replied, "I'll show the list to Head Teller Sneerwell. Say nothing of this to anyone else today. You did well, my friend."

Little Longfinger looked up to his friend Gumeye in appreciation.

... - …

Sneerwell carefully read the list and recognized the names. Conrad Parkinson's estate had proven most lucrative. Now the sole heir, Pansy was dead; most likely murdered. He wondered if these four were the ongoing work of Dr. Granger, or if someone else was sufficiently displeased with the teenage humans. The three young wizards and the witch all attended school at the castle. The list of the sufficiently displeased who would have easy access to the castle was remarkably small.

Within minutes, the other tellers had been instructed to tell him personally if Miss Chang were to enter the bank and to tell no one else about the directive. Gringotts was not obligated to inform anyone else other than those listed in a Will. Until he spoke with Lord Ragnok on the matter, he was disinclined to mention it to anyone.

… - …

Dan was grateful that they were spending Christmas at Amelia's home. The 800 pound gorilla topic – Emma's absence wasn't as prominent in their minds. The damage to the exterior of her home had been repaired in two days and her home looked as good as new.

The teens went ridiculously overboard in their gift giving; everyone's pile of presents was embarrassingly large. Blouses, bags, shoes, magical watches and gift certificates were the prevalent gifts for the witches – teen or other.

Ben received a pair of dragonhide boots and a pair of comfy shoes; guaranteed to be comfortable for those who needed to stand all day. Amelia commented, "Florean swears by them."

He replied, "These look like they'll be perfect for my new job. Thank you."

Hermione said, "They look like they have some complex charmwork, Grandpa. Are you going back into dentistry?"

Ben laughed and replied, "I'll leave that for Dan and Emma; much too hard on the back and shoulders for me. I'm working Thursdays, Saturdays and summers with Florean Fortescue. I used to work in an ice cream shop when I was a lad. Dan and I stopped in a few times and we struck up a friendship. He needs the help and I needed to get out of the house more, so it's a good fit."

His granddaughter smiled and replied, "That's great, Grandpa. Can we come and see you?"

Be remarked, "Come anytime. You have no idea what it's like to wake up one day and suddenly feel better."

Harry remarked, "Actually, I do and I couldn't agree with you more. You feel like a new man. That's so great that you got fixed up like that."

… - …

Harry, who was enjoying every minute of the festivities asked, "What are the plans for tomorrow?"

"First, were all going bowling in the morning. That should be fun. After that, basically, Auntie invites everyone that she knows to stop by for a few minutes in the afternoon. They come and go and toast this or that with eggnog or brandy, have a pastry or cookie, exchange a small gift and are gone in twenty minutes."

"It sounds like fun; especially if you take transportation time out of the equation. Who would come?"

"The Board of Governors, the Ministry Managers – they usually come with their spouses. All of the Aurors and Hitwizards are invited. Usually, only the ones without children attend. Aunt Connie and Anna usually come and stay for the day. Professor Croaker usually stops over too."

"That sounds life fun."

"Thanks again for the watch. It's beautiful, dead useful and I love it."

Harry beamed at her. He'd so hoped that she'd like his gift. He replied, "I love my dragon boots. They look really cool."

"Aunt Connie helped me pick them out. Sometimes I think Auntie still sees me as being eight. Connie told me that they'd last a lifetime."

"We'll just have to see about that, won't we?"

"I think I'd like that. They smiled at each other for a very long time."

… - …

Later that evening, there were several whispered conversations of "Would you like some company tonight?"

The next morning, Smidgen noticed that only four of the six occupied bedrooms had been slept in. The little elf smiled to herself. In their own way, the Bones women were both very good at demonstrating their gratitude to the gentlemen who had saved their lives.

ooo ccc ooo

"1275, Mr. Crow. I've warned you about that for months now."

_I only report what I hear_, thought the old scribe, who was more convinced than ever that the old crone had been there for the original signing.

She was still ranting when he'd slipped out of her office and was off to his friend's distillery. He was convinced that watching oak barrels full of elixir age was more productive than hearing yet another lecture. He'd read a report from one of his fellow scribes that had put a smile on his face earlier in the day. He pulled the little card out of his pocket. It read The Fair and had a number 8932907. He smiled at the thought as he raised his glass. It was 5 o'clock.

… - …


	21. Croaker's Assignment

… - …

**Chapter 21 – Croaker's Assignment**

Sunday 26 December

After breakfast, they took their portkeys to Ben's home and drove from there. Ben found a spot to park in the nearly empty lot and they walked in. They looked around. There were 18 lanes as well as an adjacent pub, which already had several tables filled.

Stan the attendant asked, "What would you like today?"

Ben replied, "We'll start with one game for six. Everyone needs shoes." He paid for everyone. Stan gave everyone their requested size of shoes and said, "Lane 8."

Dan went with a sixteen pound ball, while the others went looking for twelve pounders. Harry and the two teens all found balls on one rack with holes that fit. Ben and Amelia decided to go to one of the racks at the end where they quickly found ones that they were looking for. Ben put everyone's name in and said, "These lanes have automatic scoring systems."

They went in order of age, so Harry went first. Susan had quietly coached him the afternoon before when Auntie mentioned going. He walked up to the line, focused on the front pin and smoothly swung the ball back and released it, with his thumb pointing at the front pin. The ball hit the front pin dead-on, leaving a 7-10 split.

"Nice one, Harry. You got some." observed Hermione, with an innocent smile on her face. Bowling was probably the one activity in the world where she consistently beat him. There had been many times in the past where he'd rolled two gutter balls in a row. He rolled the next one in the exact same spot, missing both; giving him an 8.

Susie went next and knocked down all ten at once; a strike.

"Good one," smiled Harry, sincerely happy for his girlfriend. She smiled at the praise.

Hermione, using a short step, got all but the 7 pin on her first roll and picked up the spare on her second. The three teens smiled at each other.

Dan rolled the loudenboomer, swinging harder than needed and knocked down seven pins with a crash that might wake the dead. He knocked the other three down with his second ball.

Amelia smoothly rolled a slow ball and quietly got all ten. She surreptitiously winked at Ben.

With a well-practiced stride and an easy swing, Ben got his.

And so they went as they rolled through the game. Harry got all ten once, but usually left some standing. Susie and Hermione did better and were evenly matched. Dan made a lot of noise, occasionally connecting for a crashing strike, but frequently missed the pickups. Ben thought he threw too hard, but didn't say anything.

Amelia rolled a few strikes, but generally picked up the leftovers, as did Ben. He remarked, "I haven't had this much fun in years. Thank you both," referring to Hermione and Amelia. The two witches both smiled. One was delighted to be spending time with her Grandpa, the other, very happy for the company.

Hermione gave a last look at the scoreboard before it was reset. Harry 92, Susan 140, Hermione 140, Dan 136, Amelia 182, Ben 178. They returned the balls to the rack, gave their shoes back to Stan the attendant, washed up a bit, then stopped into the pub for a beverage and a bite. Harry observed, "Grandpa, you and Amelia did really well."

Ben smiled back and replied, "Amelia did really well. I got lucky on a few, but it's brilliant feeling good again."

Everyone agreed as they got back into Ben's old Land Rover.

"It's too bad that Hogwarts doesn't have a set of lanes." observed Hermione. There really aren't any physical activity options available if you're not on a quidditch team. Bowling would be an easy way to spend informal time with people from other houses."

Amelia noticed that Susie and Harry both agreed. He added, "Twenty-eight people play quidditch. No one else gets a chance."

Hermione added, "It's divisive. It's one thing to cheer for your own team, but there's no bonding between houses to offset it. Snape never let the people from his house even eat with anyone else and the other heads never encouraged it."

Susie agreed, saying, "The Slytherins collectively just got their arses handed to them. I'm not saying that they didn't start it and didn't deserve it, but Hermione and Harry are right; there's a shed load of collective anger against them. It's not just quidditch; it's a _your parents killed my parents_ sort of thing." Harry was thinking about Cho and Theo.

The adults were absolutely quiet as they listened.

Susie continued, "Bowling would be good. They could have teams with one rule – there have to be people from at least two houses on it."

Curious, Harry asked, "How much does a bowling alley cost?"

"No Harry. You're not paying to have a bowling alley put up at Hogwarts." directed Amelia. I happen to think it's a good idea and will bring it up at the next board meeting. The school is not without resources."

He nodded in acceptance; the words to the Christmas song refrain kept going through his mind.

… - …

While Hermione was looking at the bowling scores, a witch matching the description entered the bank. Gumeye immediately contacted Sneerwell and directed Miss Chang to his counter. When she arrived, he said, "How may Gringotts assist you today, Miss Chang?"

She replied, "I'd like my parents' Will read please."

The old goblin, replied, "My name is Sneerwell. I can assist you. Step into the Bronze room over there and I'll be with you in two minutes. Gumeye will escort you." He pointed to the conference room at the other end of the spacious lobby, placed the _next window_ placard in front of his counter window and went to get some documents.

Cho was led to the small conference room and gave a look at the same maps that Dan had previously studied. Sneerwell saw her looking at the Hogsmeade map as he walked in. He commented, "Your parents worked very hard to be able to afford to bring you here. I met with your mother twice, arranging business documentation for them. You have done well, attempting to avenge their deaths. We will not interfere with your actions. However, it is not a path that we would recommend that you continue."

Cho was stunned at the words, but said nothing, raising Sneerwell's opinion of the young witch. He continued, "The terms of their Will were very straightforward. You inherit all of their assets and liabilities. Is it your intent to resume operating the business, or would you have us dissolve it on their behalf?"

She knew that the question would be asked, and replied, "It's my intent to keep it, right now."

"There is a four percent estate tax and a four percent estate fee. Fortunately your parents had more than enough gold in their vault to cover both. You need to sign here, here, here and there and their home and business are yours. We'll file the appropriate paperwork with the Ministry."

She nodded at his words.

He added, "If I might make a suggestion, it would be to permanently dispose of anything that might link the four students with yourself, or the school. If we can be of additional assistance in the future, please stop in again, Miss Chang."

He stood while she gathered her papers and walked out of the conference room. She was pleased with the proceedings, but completely shaken that they'd tied the four deaths to her so easily.

… - …

Amelia made the various introductions as Croaker stood in the background, observing. "Harry, this is Michelle Wood, her husband Mike, and Minister Amos Diggory."

"Hello again. I'm pleased to meet you Mike. Good to see you again, Minister." Harry had spent a lifetime being annoyed when people would star at his scar, so he had an easy time, not focusing on the missing legs that Michelle and Amos had, or the crutches that they both were still getting used to. He didn't pity them, but wished that there was a way to help.

Harry added, "This is my sister, Hermione Granger."

They didn't stay long. Harry recalled that she'd been very efficient when she'd first met them after the attack at the Flying Horse. He did appreciate that none of them talked down to him because of his age.

… - …

Harry asked, "Have you always been in investigations?"

Connie replied, "After the first Voldemort war ended in late 1981, the DMLE was decimated. Barty Crouch, fifteen Aurors and one Hitwizard were all that remained. We literally sent the entire force when Alice Longbottom sent that distress message.

"We stormed their cottage. Alastor lost his leg that day. Seeing the blood on the floor, the anti-apparition wards up, and all of us there seemed to be enough for Bellatrix at that point. She, Rabastan, Rodolphus and Barty Junior neatly set their wands on the ground then put their hands in the air like they'd given up. They probably would have gotten away with the I_mperius_ defense like those other stinkers if they'd turned themselves in a week earlier, like Lucius and his bunch."

Harry and the others sat there with rapt attention, nodding from time to time as she spoke.

"Minister Bagnold retired after the trials and that twat Fudge got in. Dumbledore would have figured a way to pardon the lot of them, if it hadn't been for those four. They and about fifty of his hired-help supporters went to Azkaban. Most of the others had been given ten-year sentences. The unmarked ones, they all died within a year or two. Something in the Mark must have kept them going. Greg Flint and his brother Tim – they made it two years. Qwen and John Thomas – they committed suicide after four."

Harry and Hermione both recalled that Sirius was stuck there for twelve years and wondered how he managed.

She continued, "It's difficult to play what-if, but Barty would have been a shoe-in for Bagnold's job if Junior hadn't gotten caught red-handed; really more his trial. He was done after that. Too bad, in hindsight. He stepped down from the DMLE Director job as he should have, but he also gave up his Wizengamot seat and went to International Cooperation. Lucius' trial was the next one after and Dumbledore presided.

"It should have been clear-cut. He'd been charged with three murders – Wizengamot seat holders. Some claimed he did it for the money that they looted from the homes, while others claimed that Riddle ordered it to get rid of opposing voices in their plans for a future government."

Connie continued, "In spite of all of the physical evidence, and there was a boat-load, that he'd done all of those dastardly deeds, he got off. By rights; he should have gotten the Kiss, but Albus didn't listen to reason and insist on using Veritaserum. Malfoy threw out the _Imperious_ defense as a last-ditch defense on his own when his Solicitor had run out of ideas.

"In the end, you'd have sworn that it was Albus, who was his Solicitor. He argued that Lucius and Narcissa had never been previously arrested and that since they had a young child, they deserved a second chance. That started a big chain reaction. Lucius got his Wizengamot seat, since Abraxas had died during the war. Parkinson, Nott, and Goyle were next, followed by Crabbe a few weeks later. When they all got their seats back, they had an edge in the Wizengamot. First Lucius introduced his no proxy for Minors amendment to a budget bill. Then he passed his wealth-test amendment to the reparations act."

Even though she now had two pages of questions written down, Hermione remained silent.

"In the meantime, Malfoy had bought off Fudge and Archie Amslowe, which resulted in Sirius never getting a trial. Archie _Obliviated_ all of the witnesses, leaving Fudge as the sole testimony that it had been Black who had killed the muggles. Archie had found the finger. He'd probably known how Pettigrew had gotten away. Six days later, Fudge was Minister, buoyed by his assisting in the capture of the man who had reportedly betrayed Lily and James. Pettigrew was smart enough to stay out of sight and Dumbledore completely protected Snape.

"Lucius passed an amendment here or another there and things just lined up for him. He removed the restrictions on what campaign contributions could be used for by stating that hardly anyone bothered to make contributions and the cost of oversight exceed the total contributed."

Amelia added, "When he said it, it actually sounded like a reasonable cost savings measure."

"It passed, and two years later, Fudge was living in a million galleon estate and two more years passed and the next we knew, he also had a home in Spain. He claimed that he'd made good investments.

"So in a hundred words or less, Dumbledore opened the floodgates which got those Stinkers let off, kept Sirius in a hellhole and kept the DMLE on a skeleton budget."

"He wanted Voldemort to return," replied Harry, as matter-of-factly as if he'd been discussing a sport score.

"What?" asked Connie, spilling her eggnog.

"He's right," added Croaker, who'd quietly been listening. "He'd heard a half-arsed prophecy which that drunk Trelawney had delivered, and set it in motion. He'd been interviewing her for a position and Snape had been listening in. Dumbledore let Snape go – a Marked Death Eater, mind you, and set the prophecy in motion. He allowed a situation to be set up where James and Lily would be attacked. In hindsight, it would have worked, except that Dumbledore didn't know about Riddle's horcruxes. If the prophecy was, in fact, real, it had been fulfilled in 1981. He was the one who placed the copy in the Hall of Prophecies. You know the rest."

Hermione sat and thought for a moment and replied, "That was far and away the best history of magic lesson that I've ever had. Thank you all." A moment later, she added, "I do have a question."

Croaker couldn't resist, "Just the one?"

She rolled her eyes and asked, "Why didn't Professor Dumbledore get some help to get rid of Harry's scar?"

He replied, "Putting the best possible shine on the subject, pride. He never asked anyone for their advice. He probably assumed that if he didn't know, it couldn't be done."

"No." interrupted Harry. "_He_ believed that I needed to be killed by Voldemort himself. He told me himself a week or so before he disappeared. I'm sure that's why he allowed Sirius to be stuck in prison, why _he_ set up the events of our first year. _He_ made the decision that it was OK for Nicolas Flamel and his wife to die. _He_ made the decision that I shouldn't live with Sirius. _He_ placed me with those fecking turds. _He_ set up first year."

The teen took a calming breath as the others listened in rapt attention. "Then second year happened. He was sincerely knocked-back when I showed him the diary that was seducing Ginny. I understand it now. Granted, he cost me ten million galleons, but the diary must have made him realize that he'd made more than one. The strange thing is, Sirius told me that that Slughorn guy probably knew how many that he'd made. I don't know the specifics, but Dumbledore didn't bother to ask him and didn't bother searching for the pieces until last summer. Two months ago, he told me that it was my job to go find them. I hope he got hit by a fecking bus."

"How do you really feel?" asked Connie, with a smirk on her face. "Anyway, to circle back to your original question, after the war and the department got back on its feet, I went back into investigations, full-time. Oh, look at the time. I'd best be on my way."

"It's a lot to think about." observed Susan.

Harry asked, "Professor Croaker, I didn't ask before, you wouldn't by chance be Neville Longbottom's uncle?"

Caught off-guard, he admitted, "Yes. Actually, he's my great-nephew."

"I remember in our first year, you'd given him his toad."

"I did. That's a good eye for detail. That's part of the reason that I'm here today. Harry, what do you know about feet?"

"Having two is a good thing, Professor. The arch and toes help us walk."

"Very good. Susie, if I could impose on you, please go put on a pair of summer shorts and come back."

"In the meanwhile, Hermione, how is your mother?"

"The skull fracture has completely healed. The brain swelling has subsided. Dad says that Dr. Krebbs, the neurosurgeon believes she'll wake up in a few months."

"How long has it been?

"Just over five and a half months, Professor."

"When Susie gets back, I'd like to go see her with you for a few minutes."

A minute later, Susan had returned and Croaker said, "Hermione and I need to go run an errand. Harry, with Susie's permission, I'd like you to spend an hour examining her feet. The toes, the arch, heel and ankle. We'll be right back."

It sounded fine to the two teens.

… - …

Monday 27 December

When the three teens got up the next day, Harry said, "OK. You go first."

Hermione explained, "We went to see Mum. Professor Croaker cast some complicated diagnostics on her. He confirmed that her skull had completely healed. He cast another charm and said that the brain swelling had almost completely subsided and would most likely wake up in a few months."

Harry was looking at her with obvious longing on his face.

"Finally, he said that if we'd tried to _Enervate_ her before the swelling had subsided, she would have had brain damage complications that might not have been repairable."

"So Mum's going to wake up pretty soon?"

Hermione knew how much Harry needed her mum back in his life and didn't want to give him false hope, but Professor Croaker had sounded so positive. She replied, "He told me that he'd come back and look at her again next week and see how he could help her. What about your project?" She wiggled her eyes suggestively.

"He wanted me to study her feet and stuff."

"Study her feet?"

"He wanted me to study her toes, see how they help with balance, arch the heel, how the ankles worked; that sort of thing."

"What about the _'and stuff'_ part?"

Harry turned beet red and admitted, "I also studied a bit higher up."

"Calves?"

He nodded.

"And knees?"

He didn't have to answer. His face gave all the answer she needed.

"Higher?"

"It seemed like a pretty good assignment."

"Then what happened?"

"He came back and showed me how to conjure a metal foot. It was like Riddle did for Pettigrew in the graveyard, except it was a foot. He told me that I was to practice it for a week or two and then he'd show me the next steps. They're weird, like the metal in the Terminator 2 movie; remember?"

She did and asked, "Can you really do that – make a foot that moves?"

He nodded.

"Is it hard?"

"Yes, well, er, not any more. He's a pretty good teacher; a lot more like Flitwick than McGonagall. He's encouraging and that sort of thing. It's all about visualization. First he had me replicate Susan's left foot, using her left foot as a model. That was easier, because she could arch it, wiggle her toes and move her ankle from side to side, so I could see it. Then he had me make a left foot, using her right foot as the model. That was harder because everything was reversed."

Hermione didn't feel so smug with herself over the conjured water glasses anymore, but she kept an interested look on her face. She wasn't as transparent as she had been as an eleven year-old.

Harry said, "That's really good news about Mum. Have you told Dad?

"No, I wanted to wait a few days. Can I borrow Hedwig?"

"Sure. You know you don't have to ask."

"OK. I'll see you at lunch."

… - …

That evening, Headmaster John Damocles had been notified that the four students had apparently left the castle. Nott's withdrawal notice was genuine. One of the other Slytherin students had seen him talking with a year-mate; discussing leaving the school. The Board needed to be notified of transfers and withdrawals. The next meeting was in just over a week. The student records that were on his desk hadn't yet been updated with new guardians or emergency contacts. John did the right thing and notified the head of the Board via firecall.

Augusta Longbottom asked, "What are the circumstances?"

"We received a withdrawal notice from the Nott boy and their trunks were packed and gone."

She admitted, "Honestly, I can't say that I'm surprised that they chose to leave. If you receive a transfer request from another school, please let me know."

"Certainly Madam Longbottom. I may yet receive them by the January meeting. If I hear back from the others, I'll get withdrawal notices from them as well."

"Thank you, Professor."

In reality, neither the new headmaster not Augusta was honestly disappointed to learn that the four had left. It eliminated a ragged, loose-end in their mutual plans to move the school into the 21st century.

… - …

As Damocles was speaking with Augusta, Ben and Dan found Hermione perusing through the Bones family library. "Hermione, there's something your Dad and I need to talk about with you."

"What is it, Grandpa?"

"My mum, Patti Olifson held a Wizengamot seat. According to the rules, you'd be eligible to claim it when you turn seventeen."

"The studious teen sat down for a minute. All of the hundreds of taunts that she'd received at Hogwarts – mudblood and the like; only to find that they weren't true. For once, she didn't know what to say.

Dan continued. "Amelia suggested that you might want to check either at the bookstore or the Hogwarts library for a reference guide or two. In the meantime she suggested that you might wish to visit that gallery a few times. I'd remind you of two things to think about. You were given two ears and one mouth. You'll want to do a lot of learning. Second, you'll be working with these people for many years. First impressions will last a long time; you'll want them to be the right ones."

Ben added, "Amelia will come visit with you on a Saturday in February. She'll answer your questions and help you be successful with this."

Initially a bit shocked, both by the news and the unusual degree of bluntness by her dad, Hermione realized the intent and replied, "Thank you Grandpa, thanks Dad. I'll do my best."

"We know you will, lass. We know you will."

… - …

Friday 31 December

Augustus Rookwood found Venice to be a perfect, if risky, intermediate hiding place. The 60,000 visitors to the city each day brought anonymity, as well an indulgence for his beginning Italian. By any measure it was a happy time for the man who'd spent ten years in Azkaban. The sights, sounds and very accommodating women made it a paradise in comparison. However, the same number of visitors guaranteed that sooner or later, he would either be recognized, or, if lucky, see someone that he knew.

This morning, it had happened. One of Riddle's arms-length supporters, Tom Felsenthal and his wife, Patti were outside having breakfast at a little café in the San Marco division. While the former unspeakable was certain that neither the English financier nor his wife had seen him, he quickly left and made his way back to his home in the Givdecca division.

"Buongierno, Binks."

"Benvento, Master. Come stai?"

"Bene, e tu?

"Bien, grazie. Posso qiotari?

"No. Grazie."

Augustus remarked, "Very good. We'll stay here another month or so, improving our Italian before we move. I saw Tom Felsenthal this morning in San Marco. We both need to avoid being recognized by anyone. Our Italian is passable now for a tourist, but we'll need to be more proficient and have a larger vocabulary before we move to Polarmo."

"Yes, Master. Binks is trying very hard."

"I know. You're a good elf, Binks."

… - …

Ben poured them each a glass and gave Dan the one with the two ice cubes. After they had sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, he asked, "So when Emma wakes up, what are you going to tell her?"

Dan admitted, "I've been thinking about that since the night Sneerwell came over to talk about Hermione. Amelia knows, right?"

Ben nodded, but didn't say anything.

Dan added, "She probably made a vow never to talk about it and left it up to us to live with it or something close."

Ben nodded, allowing Dan to talk it out.

Dan rationalized, "Than we'd better stick with the newspaper version that Scrimgeour and crew eventually got all of them and let Harry and Hermione tell their side. Eventually, she'll hear of the morons' attack on Bones manor and most of the other details. We'd rented the space above the ice cream shop to do the planning for the new clinic and used it for a few weeks. It's a big omission, but it'll hold up."

Ben nodded.

Dan realized, "this is going to cost me dinner tonight, isn't it?"

Ben replied, "Now you're talking. Let's go, and get rid of that bottle of Hoppes. We're retired."

ooo ccc ooo

**Real Author Note:** More than a few people sent notes commenting that Harry was a fool to share the picture money with Ron and Ginny. Everyone is entitled to an opinion. Mine is that he wouldn't exclude them. The question is - would Ron be responsible with his money? I'd happily include an omake of the best response or two.

**Two recommendations this time**. For non-writers, the reason I don't simply include a link is that the fanfiction website doesn't allow embedded links to be included in stories. If you don't know how to edit an address bar, you might simply look in my favorites list. Then again, it's a good skill to acquire.

10949411/1/We-Found-Wonderland (ESL story, but it has a _very_ clever concept)

9495799/1/1 The Eight Futures of Harry Potter – I had a great fun time reading this.

Several other people commented that they couldn't figure out the continued reference to 1275 during the story. That was the year that the offenses against persons act was enacted. It was one of the origins of modern consent laws and worth keeping in mind. In this age of google everything, I'm surprised that 175 people didn't spot it and comment after chapter 3.

There are two or three more chapters, depending on how long one of the final scenes goes.

I'm going to Nevada for the stated purpose of going to a trade show. I'll be back in a week and a half.

The old scribe and McGonagall will be back again soon. They needed some time apart.

… - …


End file.
